The Dosadi Suite - Cycle 4 - Minuet
by OrionXIII
Summary: Comments, reviews, etc. requested. The half-human/half-Dosadi daughter of Wilkes and Sooth joins Star Fleet as a fighter pilot and undertakes a mission that requires a sacrifice that may be more than she can bear. Minor cameo appearances by Sulu, Kirk, and McCoy. Set just before the events of "The Undiscovered Country' *Chapter 7 has adult settings and themes. Edited down to M.
1. Story Notes

The Dosadi Suite

Story Notes

This is actually a full book, broken into 5 cycles and 3 codas. The story is being told by a reporter – if you want to read things in order here's your table of contents:

Cycle 1 - Fugue

Prologue – Sets the stage.

The story of how a young human Star Fleet engineer meets and falls in love with a Dosadi Imperial Marine. Crosses the events of Coda 2, and 3. Minor appearance by Nurse Chapel.

Cycle 2 – Triad

Continues the story of Wilkes and Sooth, their struggles to have a child while dealing with the espionage intrigues of a Hydran Colonel. Minor appearances by CPT Kirk and CDR Spock.

Cycle 3 – Pivot

Continues the story of Wilkes and Sooth as they become involved in stopping a bio-weapon from being released on Earth under a flag of truce.

Coda 1 – Raid on Romulus

Details the events of the Dosadi raid that destroyed the Romulon capitol city.

Coda 2 – Free For All At Toulagai

Details the events of the first battle where Wilkes, Sooth and COL Jons first met – though on opposite sides.

Coda 3 – The Long Night

Details the events of the Dosadi assault on a Gorn battlestation to recover a defector.

Cycle 4 – Minuet

Tells the story Wilkes' and Sooth's daughter Heather's time at Starfleet Academy while she learns to be a Federation fighter pilot and a details a series of Cardassian atrocities.

Cycle 5 – Finale

Tells the story of Wilkes' and Sooth's son Corin, a Dosadi Special Forces Soldier and his rescue of a young Dosadi child after the Cardassians capture a critical Dosadi planet – and the Dosadi's attempt to retake the planet.

Epilogue – Wraps it all up for you.

End Notes & Acknowledgments – copyright and title information for song lyrics and thanks to the folks who've provided help and suggestions!

I would VERY much like any comments, suggestions, or reviews you would care to offer – positive or negative, even if it's just 'This didn't hook my interest'. Thank you for taking the time to read it!


	2. Chapter 1

_**CYCLE 4 – MINUET**_

_**CHAPTER 1**_

"_Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth  
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;  
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth"_

_- Maj John Magee, Jr – Earth (Human)_

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

NOVEMBER, 2289

The stars pinwheeled across her canopy in a pirouette of fireflies as she cut her engines and spun the Viper on all 3 axes. For that moment, her trajectory was predictable and she was vulnerable to the weapons on the pursuing star fighter.

2,000 kilometers below, Captain Ray Spruance and Commander Ih-Tedda closely watched several displays tracking the combat. Captain Spruance spoke first, "Finally. He has her."

Ih-Tedda, a full-blood Apache, wasn't so sure. She said, "Wait. Watch."

Heather jammed her left side-stick to its stop, the Viper shuddering as it skidded sideways, several warning lights flashing on her instrument panel as the thrusters fired at maximum, the hull groaning in protest. The other fighter sparkled, the twin phasers striking a brief, glancing blow across her port shields and she fire-walled the throttle, disengaging the safety-overrides. Stamping on the rudder pedals and slamming the right side-stick over and back, she attempted to bring her own weapons to bear as the other fighter flashed past, it's wing nearly clipping her dorsal fin while it too began to spin around.

Laughing, she keyed the computer to blast out one of her favorite songs - "Magic Carpet Ride" by Steppenwolfe, from a band and a style of music popular centuries before her planet was even discovered by humans. As the blue curve of the Earth filled her view, the Viper began shaking as the acceleration went beyond what the inertial dampeners could handle and pinned her to her seat.

Spruance said, "I will be damned." The strains of ancient music came out from the speakers and he said, "What the hell is that?" And a moment later, noting that her Viper was pulling 7 gravities beyond its limits he said, "Commander! She's going to..."

"Sir, wait. Trust me."

"These are 2nd year students? This is an unacceptable level of risk and whatever that noise is has no place in..."

"Sir, this is why I asked you here. This is not a normal situation."

Heather's Viper had done a complete reversal of it's trajectory and was screaming straight down, using the Earth's gravitational field to add to her velocity, the tenuous atmosphere already beginning to bite at her fighter. The pursuing craft was also struggling to overcome a velocity vector that was straight up and turn it into one going straight down and her radio came to life with laughter, "No fair! You're going to break her!"

Chuckling she answered back "Maybe. But you'll never catch me!"

Cadet Andrew Sterling said, "Watch me!"

The two craft continued their twisting, spiraling course downward, glowing like meteors as their speed increased well past hypersonic.

Spruance looked at Ih-Tedda, "They are NOT going to do what I think they are going to do are they?"

"Sir, please trust me. You need to see this. I understand the risks, I understand that they are violating safety regulations. I will take full responsibility."

He shook his head, watching the two craft drop down to the wave-tops and level off in a punishing pull-out. A sensor buoy caught a brief glimpse of Heather's Viper zipping by, a rooster-tail of spray thrown up by the hypersonic shock wave.

Spruance's jaw dropped, "Brilliant!" but Sterling wasn't so easily ensnared. He slid his own Viper to the side and climbed slightly, creating a twin to her rooster-tail – but he couldn't bring his weapons to bear. "Oh no. Commander, no, no, no – vector them..." he was interrupted by a smashing series of bangs as the two fighters roared over Starfleet Academy and headed back into the clouds.

Glaring at the younger Commander he said, "How long has this been going on like this?"

"Virtually since we first put them in a fighter, sir. They are two of the most natural fighter pilots I've ever heard of. I've called both of them on the carpet multiple times for safety violations with almost no effect. Once they get into a cockpit they are literally overcome with the pure joy of flying and fighting. I took it upon myself to analyze their flights – although they regularly violate Academy regulations, they actually do an excellent job of mitigating and managing risks; They simply use a very, very narrow safety margin. More like what you would expect in an actual combat situation.

"This is my problem – they are astonishingly good, and astonishingly difficult to rein in to training standards when they are in the air. My choice appears to be kick them out for flagrant violations of safety regulations, or find a way to keep them with us and to hell with the regulations. My preference is the latter. They are simply too good to throw away."

"Nobody's that good, Ih-Tedda. Send some of Nova Squadron after them. Let one of the older cadets bring them down a peg and remind them that they're only human."

"I did, sir."

"Which one?"

"I sent Nova Squadron after the pair of them."

"Yes, which pilot?"

"No, sir. I sent the ENTIRE Nova Squadron after them. It wasn't even a decent fight. I have the tape if you'd like to review it."

"You sent five senior cadet pilots after a pair of second-years and you're telling me the newbies _won?"_

"Yes, sir. It took them less than two minutes to take out all five. Then they started chasing each other again. I had to recall them at that point."

"Recall them. I want that tape, I want their files, and I want both of them in my office as soon as they land. The Commandant is going to have my ass in a sling for that sonic boom stunt – don't even try to tell me that wasn't deliberate – I at least want to know _why_ it's going to be in a sling. And you will ground them until I make my decision."

She tapped a key on the console, "Viper Flight, Command. Return to base immediately. Romeo tango bravo, out."

Captain Spruance watched the trace of the two ships arc over and begin returning, twisting and rolling around each other like a pair of salsa dancers.

"Do they ALWAYS do that?" he asked.

Laughing Commander Ih-Tedda answered, "Yes, sir. As I said, there is a great joy within them when they fly. It is...irrepressible. I'm not sure it would be wise to try."

"How are they outside of a fighter?"

"Outstanding cadets, sir. They are always contrite when their flight violations are pointed out – and always forget all their good intentions the moment the cockpit closes. They are natural leaders and natural instructors, always willing to help their fellow cadets. Sterling took it upon himself to help one of our cadets who was struggling with formation flying, providing hours of extra instruction and even flying extra training flights. Their marks are generally good. Both are well-liked and well-respected.

"I'm afraid their dogfight with Nova Squadron has made them something of a legend; definitely not my intent. The senior cadets have yet to live that down. To their credit, they haven't attempted to make excuses – they were simply outclassed and know it. This has not helped my attempts to rein in our two rogues."

"Who are they, Commander?"

"Cadet Andrew Sterling, from Ft. William, Scotland, Earth, and Cadet Heather, from T'Elesh, Dosad. Um, you'll find her records under Heather Wilkes. Although she follows Dosadi traditions she used her father's last name upon joining Starfleet."

"What do you mean her father's last name? Don't Dosadi use just one name?"

"Yes, sir. Her father is human. Captain Thomas Wilkes, retired."

Spruance looked at her. "She's half human? I didn't even know that was possible."

"I haven't pried sir. Apparently there are only 4, her, a sister, and two brothers."

"Please tell me her siblings aren't planning on flight training as well."

She chuckled, "No sir, one brother is a farmer here on Earth, the other is in the Dosadi Imperial Fleet and her sister is some sort of itinerant historian and story teller."

"Interesting. Which one is the better pilot?"

"Neither. Sterling is the more methodical and patient. She is quicker to see and take a transient advantage. He is the better leader, she is the more inspiring. He is elegant, she is dramatic. I've never seen one score a kill on the other. Perhaps if I'd sent Nova Squadron after them one at a time...No, probably not."

"Could you take them?"

She thought a moment. When she flew, her fighter carried with it 11 different tally marks signifying enemy craft destroyed; A huge total for the normally peaceful Starfleet. "Sir, I honestly doubt it."

"Damn. Very well. Send them and their records to me. And ground the pair of them. Assign them extra tutoring duties to the first year students and cut any off-duty privileges they have for consistent, flagrant safety violations. Then I want you to assign them to maintenance during their duty hours for that sonic boom stunt."

"Sir!"

"Commander, I WILL bring these two to heel. And if I elect to keep them, I want them to be grateful for the opportunity. I don't give a tinker's damn HOW good they are, they WILL learn that there are consequences."

"Sir, I'm not sure that's wise – Do you want to..."

"From what I saw today, there isn't a damn thing in the world I could do to take away their joy of flying and fighting, Commander. But we can add some maturity and some caution; The best steel is tempered. Don't forget those records, Ih-Tedda."

"Yes, sir." she answered sourly.


	3. Chapter 2

_**CHAPTER 2**_

_In the whole scene there was an air of ruin and destruction, something which betrayed a final and irrevocable adieu; one couldn't watch without feeling one's heart wrung. The Indians were tranquil, but sombre and taciturn._

_- Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America – Earth (Human)_

VILLAGE OF TONG, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

NOVEMBER, 2289

Six year-old Fallon clung to her mother's leg. "Mommy! I don't want to go!" she cried. The tiny, black and white spotted humanoid with large, black eyes was clearly terrified. Her mother tried to soothe her child as the much larger Cardassian trooper waved them both out of their hut with his rifle.

"It will be OK, child. Do as they wish and they shall not harm us. There is no reason for them to do so. Come along." and she walked out the door of her home to the waiting transport.

Legate Kai made a pair of marks on his PADD and shook his head disgustedly. "They are like so many cows. Useless wastes of space."

Looking at the lines of Oriaslings queuing to board the transports under the guns of his troops, Glin Markut asked, "So why move them into camps? Why not just leave them be?"

"The environment here is collapsing, it care barely support these little creatures as it is. These lands are needed for Cardassians. At least they shall get some sort of use out of this planet." Clapping the younger Glin on the shoulder he chuckled, "Don't worry, it's not like they're people anyway. They're more like animals who have mastered a few tricks. We'll find some way to get some utility out of the lot of them!"

A short while later, the transports rumbled into life, packed tightly with the little black and white humanoids. One of the few able to see anything, little Fallon tried not to cry as she watched her village, the only place she had ever known, vanish in a cloud of dust.

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

NOVEMBER, 2289

The clock on Captain Spruance's wall ticked loudly. Cadet Andy Sterling stood at rigid attention, trying to ignore the rivulet of sweat running down his back, keeping his eyes focused on an imaginary spot on the Captain's wall. To his left, Cadet Heather did the same, the warmth of the Captain's office making her wish that she wasn't covered in reddish, spotted fur. Her left ear flicked in a nervous tic.

Spruance flipped another page. He had already gone through their records and viewed the replay of their dogfight with Nova Squadron while they waited outside his office. This was a calculated tactic to let them know just how deep in the shit they truly were. Deciding that the time was right, he sighed heavily, closed the folder and sat back, studying the two youngsters standing in front of his desk.

Sterling was six feet tall with dark hair and pale blue eyes – a rather odd combination Spruance thought. He was one of those people who looked like he should be a model with features best described as chiseled and a solid build like a rugby forward. He looked him up and down, looking for any flaw in his uniform and found none.

Turning his attention to Sterling's partner in crime, he found a startling contrast. She was barely 4'6" - he made a mental note to check her height against regulations – and looked a lot like a large bi-pedal cat, although radically different from what he expected of a Dosadi. Instead of being marked like a cougar, she was covered in reddish fur with an unruly shock over the top of her skull. Her ears were rather more rounded than normal and her eyes were a shockingly bright blue. Further, although Dosadi females were normally slim-hipped and fairly flat-chested when not actively nursing, this cadet was obviously female along more human lines. He found the combination both interesting and slightly repellant; shades of bestiality he thought to himself.

Drumming his fingers on his desk he asked the pair, "Do you understand why you are here, Cadets?"

Sterling answered first, clearing his throat and saying, "Yes, sir." As Spruance stared at him, he swallowed and asked, "Safety regulations, sir?"

"And?"

Heather answered, "The fly-over, sir?"

"And?"

They glanced at each other quickly and Sterling continued, "There was something else, sir?"

"We'll see." He glowered at them. "Do you have any explanation for these constant, on-going, and flagrant violations of Academy safety regulations? Or for that idiotic and sophomoric stunt this afternoon?"

Heather thought to herself, "Well, we _are_ sophomores..." but wisely said nothing.

Again, Sterling took the lead in answering, "Sir, we're supposed to push the limits – it's a dog-fight. You have to do your very best to either get away or to get the other pilot in your sights. We didn't actually..."

"Cadet, are you currently at war with your fellow pilots? Are you currently locked in a desperate life-or-death struggle with this other young idiot here?"

There was silence for a moment, "No, sir."

"Then why are you behaving as if you are? Those regulations are for your safety, and for hers, and for civilians on the ground if you lose it and pile a multimillion credit fighter into a packed neighborhood or this CAMPUS for that matter!"

He drummed his fingers again. "So. You have no _valid_ explanation for your actions. You simply felt you could disobey orders and do whatever the hell _you_ want to do simply because...Well because you're so very _special_. Is that about it?"

Both cadets spoke in unison, "No, sir!"

"No, sir?! Then why is it that every time the two of you go aloft you end up behaving like some drunken hick with his daddy's APV on a dirt road?!"

The silence stretched on and Heather said, "Sir, it's not an excuse but...I forget. I get so focused on either catching the other fighter or getting away. I don't even think about it very much. I know it's past the limits, but I think it's just a little bit, just enough to get away and then I'll be able to cut back and...it just goes from there." Sterling was nodding along.

"I note that it's only when the two of you are chasing each other that you seem to lose all sense of propriety." A sudden thought occurred to him. "Are you two romantically involved?"

Sterling blushed scarlet and stammered, "N..n..n..No, sir."

Heather thought to herself, "Not for lack of trying..." but said, "No, sir. Neither of us is involved romantically with anyone. There just isn't time for that sort of thing."

"I would hope not. I would hate to add to the list of regulations that you regularly violate. Although the point may be moot. You may both very well be free to spend your time however you please here very shortly."

Both cadets paled.

"Starfleet is a _service._ A _military_ service. With rules, and discipline and order that you are expected to follow – all the time, every time. Not simply when it is convenient for you. You two seem to not understand that. How you have gotten this far in your Academy career without knowing that very basic fact is a mystery to me. I must now decide whether it is in the best interest of Starfleet to continue to spend time and effort trying to turn you into disciplined, reliable _officers_. It may be that both of us will be better served if you two find a different path – perhaps with the Orion pirates.

"In any case, I have to go explain to the Commandant why two of my cadets decided to fly through Academy grounds at Mach 7. Dismissed."

The two of them saluted, pivoted smartly and left his office. As the door contracted behind them, Sterling said, "Jesus. You think they're really going to kick us out?"

"I hope not. They might. I didn't mean to fly through campus – you kept arcing over, and then I had to dodge that LNG carrier and it happened so fast. There was the bridge, so I jinked to keep away from it and then there was campus." She sighed, "I really, really hope not. Flying is the best thing in the universe. I feel sick to my stomach worrying about it. We really screwed up this time."

"Yeah." They walked on through campus for a little bit, trying not to notice the branches and leaves scattered about the normally immaculate campus grounds – side effects from their hypersonic fly-over. "Would chow help, or make it worse?"

"Help, I think. Besides, I found a new song I want to play for you!"

He laughed, "Another one of those ancient tunes you keep digging up?"

"Yup!" she smiled, "You'll like this one – it makes me think of you. Maybe you could sing it."

He blushed again and didn't answer for a few seconds. "I can try if you've got the lyrics."

They entered the cafeteria and picked up their trays. As they were picking out their food several other cadets came up to ask how their interview had gone. By the time they had made their way to their table, the word had spread throughout the cafeteria that they were in danger of being kicked out.

They sat and started picking through their food. Heather pulled out her PADD and brought up the song she had found. Several of their friends sat with them, peppering them with questions about Captain Spruance's decision. Sterling was studying the music as the song played. Cadet Peggy Lynd was spending more time studying _him_. A fact not lost on Heather.

"Are you going to sing for us, Andy?" Lynd asked. Popular, blonde, with green eyes and a bikini-model build, she usually landed any male she set her eye on. Sterling had been a notable exception, to date.

He smiled, "If I can get a feel for it, yeah. It's a good tune. Not like a lot of the stuff she finds." he winked at Heather.

Cadet Mike Malloy laughed. Dark haired, with soulful brown eyes and a runner's build, He and Heather had been close the previous year and he had always found her fascination with dusty old music an oddity. He asked Heather, "Going to sing harmony with him?"

"If he wants me to. It's called _'The Minstrel Boy'_" The two often sang some old song that Heather found – a Dosadi habit that had found widespread popularity at Starfleet Academy. Their voices harmonized well and both were fairly skilled singers. Sterling played guitar as well – another trait that had attracted the female cadets' interest, without any noticeable effect on Andy.

The music started, and as they started singing, the background conversations in the cafeteria came to a stop while people listened:

"_The minstrel boy to the war is gone,  
In the ranks of death ye will find him;  
His father's sword he hath girded on,  
And his wild harp slung behind him;  
'Land of Song!' said the warrior bard,  
'Tho' all the world betray thee,  
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,  
One faithful harp shall praise thee!'_

The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain  
Could not bring his proud soul under;  
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again,  
For he tore its chords asunder;  
And said 'No chains shall sully thee,  
Thou soul of love and bravery!  
Thy songs were made for the pure and free  
They shall never sound in slavery!

_The Minstrel Boy will return we pray  
When we hear the news we all will cheer it,  
The minstrel boy will return one day,  
Torn perhaps in body, not in spirit.  
Then may he play on his harp in peace,  
In a world such as heaven intended,  
For all the bitterness of man must cease,  
And ev'ry battle must be ended."_

"Wow." Lynd said, "That's a really sad one." A few of the other listeners voiced their agreement.

Malloy said, "We just need to get you a harp, Andy."

Sterling laughed, "I'm gonna get issued one after Spruance kills me." He glanced at his watch, "Heather, we've got to get to our tutoring sessions; It would not be good to be late today."

She took a last swallow of her drink and stood up, "Nope. Let's get moving." The two of them cleared their trays and headed off to go tutor their respective groups of freshmen.

Later that evening, Captain Spruance was interrupted by a knock on his door. "Come!"

A Freshman cadet, an Andorian no less, came in, saluted and said, "Cadet Theret, sir. I would like to take advantage of your open door policy."

Sitting back in his chair he grimaced. These were almost always some hyped up complaint about an instructor being mean or unfair or some other nonsense. "Very well. What's on your mind, Cadet?"

"Sir. I understand that you are considering expelling Cadets Sterling and Heather."

He raised his eyebrow. "Really. And you know this how, Cadet?"

"Barracks rumor, Sir. Is it true?"

"That's not really any of your business, Cadet."

"Yes, sir, it is."

"I beg your pardon?" Spruance leaned forward.

"Sir, I would have failed Quantum Mechanics and failed out of the Academy if it had not been for Heather's extra tutoring. And Sterling's always giving hangar-flying lessons on air combat maneuvering. So is Heather. It's made us _all_ better."

"I see. Was there anything further?"

"No, sir."

"Dismissed, Cadet." The young Andorian saluted and left his office. Not 30 seconds after he left, there was another knock. Sighing, Spruance called out "Come!"

This time it was a female 2nd-year cadet. "Sir! Cadet Robbins reporting. I would like to utilize your open door policy."

"Really. And what about, Cadet?"

She answered, "Sir, I've heard a rumor that you are going to expel Cadets Heather and Sterling. Is that true?"

Drumming his fingers on his desk, he asked, "And what if it is, Cadet?"

"Sir, I would like to offer a recommendation for both."

"I see. And why is that?"

"Sir, they help _everyone_. And they're the best fliers we've got! They always go the extra mile in everything."

"And they disobey safety regulations every time they fly."

"Not _every_ time, sir. Just when they fight each other."

"Enough. Thank you for your input, Cadet. That will be all."

"Yes, sir." And she mirrored Theret, saluting and exiting smartly.

Spruance sat back, thinking to himself. He was not surprised when almost a minute later, there was another knock at his door. "Come!" he growled.

"Sir! Cadet Ming Lee, reporting! I would like to take advantage of your open door policy, sir!"

"Let me guess. You've heard a rumor."

"Um...yes, sir."

"Okay. I've had about enough of this. Cadet, is there a line outside my door?"

"Sir? No, sir."

Spruance leaned back again. "Is this about our two problem Cadets? Never mind. Don't answer. Cadet, you will go and round up all of your class, with the exception of those two. You will gather them together in the multipurpose room in 30 minutes. I will address all of your concerns at that time. If anyone else knocks on my door with this same horseshit, I will personally strip them of their credits and start them over again as raw freshmen, is that understood?"

"Sir! Yes, sir!"

"Dismissed."

Thirty minutes later, Captain Spruance walked through the doors into the large multipurpose room, the assembled cadets rising to their feet at the cry of "Captain on deck!". Scanning the room he sought out Cadet Lee. "Cadet, this is more than your class."

"Yes, sir! These are all the people who wanted to speak on behalf of Cadets Heather and Sterling, sir."

"Hmm. Senior Cadet Rugov. I'm a little surprised to see you and Nova Squadron here. Not only are these sophomores, but they waxed your tails rather easily. I'd think you'd be glad to see them go."

"No, sir. One team, one fight, sir. We're good, they're the best. It would be stup...unwise to lose those skills."

"So you're OK with a pair of newbies lording it over you?"

"Sir, they don't do that." He grinned wryly, "I actually expected that they would – I probably would've. They don't even really talk about it except clinically. Which is actually more embarrassing than if they were just bragging."

"Indeed. That split-s you pulled was not exactly sound tactical thinking."

He coughed, "Um, yes, sir. That was her analysis as well. She also pointed out that it allowed her to take me out and almost instantly engage my wingman as well, leaving him no chance to evade her shot."

"Is there anyone here even remotely concerned that these two are not being held to the same standard as the rest of you? That they are being allowed to ignore safety regulations without consequence? To disobey orders without punishment?"

He paused, scanning the classroom. One hand finally, hesitatingly, went up.

"Yes, you. Cadet...Lynd?"

"Sir, They are punished, regularly, for violating regulations. Maybe not as much as you'd think, but they know it's wrong and they do try. But they also go way beyond regulations and expectations in helping everyone else. Look at this room, sir. This isn't normal."

"That, Cadet, is the understatement of the week." He sat down on the edge of the table at the front of the room. "Very well. I appreciate all of your input." He thought for a moment. "Rugov. Go and fetch our two problems and bring them here. Meanwhile, I'll listen to what you all have to say, although I warn you it will have no bearing upon my decision. This is not a democracy, nor is it the ladies' tea club."

Ten minutes later, Heather and Sterling walked into the multipurpose room hot on Rugov's heels, looking across the room with trepidation.

Snapping to attention, they announced, "Sir! Cadets Sterling and Heather reporting as ordered!" while Rugov took his seat.

Leaving them at attention, Spruance said, "Cadets, I'm presented with a rather unusual situation. Discipline matters are personal and private. Unfortunately, a large number of your classmates have made your disposition their business. So, I will give you the choice. I have made my decision. We can adjourn to my office where we will wrap this up in private, or if you wish, I can tell you right here and now and save some rumor control efforts later."

They looked at each other. Sterling said, "We'd like to hear it now, sir."

"Cadet Heather, is that the case for you as well?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. My decision is final, Cadets. As of this moment, I am removing you from the regular flight rotation."

Heather and Sterling looked devastated. There were gasps throughout the room and Spruance yelled, "At EASE Cadets." Glaring at the assembled students, he waited for them to settle back down. "As I said, you are no longer in the regular flight rotation. Further, I am re-organizing the sophomore squadrons into two Flights. Cadet Sterling, you will take student command of Alpha Flight with first second, and third squadrons, Cadet Heather, you will take student command of Bravo Flight with fourth, fifth and sixth squadrons. Monday through Friday, you will fly in an adjunct instructor capacity subordinate to your regular instructors. You will not engage in dogfights with anyone except in an instructional capacity. You are forbidden to fly anywhere _near_ each other during these flights. If I catch you violating this order or any safety regulation even slightly I will expel you immediately. And I WILL be watching. Closely."

He paused again, watching the mixture of relief, confusion, and loss play across their features. Thinking to himself that they really did love to fly together, he decided to give them his little surprise. "Finally, each weekend day you are assigned an additional duty. You are to undertake one or two additional flights each day engaging each other in simulated combat to the maximum limits of your aircraft and yourselves. You may include up to two other cadets in these flights, with the permission of your senior instructor. The Commandant has agreed to suspend safety and maneuvering regulations for this specific purpose, although you _will_ obey range and location restrictions without fail. Post-flight, you will prepare a briefing to be given to your instructors and classmates each Monday on these flights focusing on any possible novel aspects of technology, maneuvering, tactics, etc. that may be of use to Starfleet.

"Finally, so that you all understand that pushing these birds past their limits has consequences and better understand what goes into making these marvelous toys work, I am extending your entire class' duty day by one hour where you will report to the maintenance hangars as extra hands. You will be subordinate to any maintainer present. If they tell you to do something, no matter how menial you consider it, you will do it without question.

"Is all of this understood?"

There was a loud chorus of "Yes, SIR!" and a lot of smiles. Spruance thought to himself that they really hadn't thought through how much more work he had just shoveled onto them, especially those two. Well, sometimes you just had to give a spirited horse more work to do to settle him down – as long as you also gave him the time to run free as well. He stood up, hearing Rugov order the cadets "On your FEET!" and walked out the door. The door had barely finished closing when he heard the cheer. Shaking his head and smiling, he returned to his office.

Heather pounced on Sterling, wrapping him up in a hug while their classmates surrounded them. Peggy Lynd wormed her way in and planted a big kiss on him as Mike Malloy said, "You two _owe_ us." and laughed. "We saved your asses and you just saddled us all with a ton of extra shit."

Rugov reached his arm in and shook their hands. "Bullshit, Malloy. One team, one fight. And we're gonna want a re-match with you two once you get caught up."

Later, making their way back to the barracks, Heather asked Sterling, "I don't suppose you'd like to share a bunk tonight?"

He blushed furiously and said nothing.

"Andy, it's just sleep, not sex. Dosadi consider it a sign of a really special friendship to sleep together. I'm not trying to throw myself at you or anything." She twitched her ears back, "Unlike SOME people." she coughed, "Peggy."

He laughed, but still said nothing.

Sighing, she said, "Guess not, again, huh?" They walked a few paces further on. "I don't understand you though. You're my closest friend here, we hang out all the time, we teach together, and there's no one I'd rather fly with or against, but sometimes I wonder if you think I'm nasty or something."

"What about Malloy?"

"Malloy?" she chuckled, "He's a good friend. Definitely someone special."

"Weren't you two together last year?"

"That was just playing at being mates. He's not right for me. We still sleep together sometimes." Rolling her eyes she said, "JUST sleep. You know there's a couple guys and girls that I sleep with – it's just being close is all, not sexual."

They kept walking. "Is it because I'm not human? Because I'm a half-breed?"

"WHAT? Jesus, Heather, no!"

"How come, then?"

There was a longer pause as they came up to the barracks. He tried to start several times and stopped. "I..I..I." he took a breath while she looked at him puzzled. "Just c..c..can't."

"Are you stuttering? She asked. Stuttering was an automatic discharge for a pilot – such an impediment would be lethal in combat.

"No!" he said too loudly. He turned on his heel and slammed into the barracks, leaving her standing outside, confused, embarrassed, and hurt.


	4. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER 3**_

I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much.

- Mother Teresa – Earth (Human)

TAJOR WORK CAMP, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

DECEMBER, 2289

Fallon walked along by her mother through the muddy paths between the barracks, holding her hand and trying not to look at any of the Cardassian guards they saw. Finally they turned and entered one of the long buildings, closing the door behind them.

"Mommy, I'm so hungry."

"Shhh. We all are child." She led her daughter into the room where many other Oriaslings were already seated in a tight spiral, an old woman in the center, her eyes half closed, her expression one of placid tranquility.

"But Mommy, it's Sarontime. There's supposed to be lots of food and toys and..."

"Perhaps next year, little one. You must learn to see what is, not what you wish to be."

"But WHY mommy?" they seated themselves at the end of the coil of people.

"Because the Cardassians have taken the food, Fallon." As the little girl opened her mouth again, she continued, "Because they have guns and we do not. Because they are cruel, and we are not."

"Why don't we have guns, mommy?"

"That is not our way, Fallon. It is not for us to decide who lives and who dies – we cannot see all the consequences of such things. That is for God."

"But if we had guns we could get our food back."

"By killing? Fallon, all that live are merely facets of one being. Were we to take up guns and kill the Cardassians, we would only be killing parts of ourselves and we would suffer immeasurably more for doing so. You do not know what the future holds – what if one of the Cardassians would one day bring peace to all beings and you were to kill him? They too have loved ones and children. Would you bring pain and suffering to all those children simply because you are having a bad time right now? Be patient. Be at peace. Accept what is."

Fallon struggled with the complex concept. Her mother said, "Shhh. Take my hand, join the spiral and be thankful to be part of all that lives and see the wonder of the world. Let sorrow and suffering wash over you like the river washes over the rocks."

The old woman in the center began a very quiet, low, repetitive chant. Each person in turn joined in, the sound growing in a rumble as the group struggled to keep the volume low.

Legate Kai grimaced at the mud outside his office. "I detest having to deal with these cows. Can they not understand even simple instructions?"

The guard said, "Sorry, sir. We heard the sound as we were walking past Barracks 10. It's pretty obviously their language, such as it is. It looks like some sort of ceremony from the window. We knew you would want to be informed."

"When we return, fetch me one of them to clean this muck off my boots. Meanwhile, let's go try to make it clear to them once again."

A few minutes later, a trooper slammed the barracks door open and Kai looked in at the tightly packed room of chanting Oriaslings. Although a couple of children screamed, the rest only looked up in fear, continuing to chant. Disgusted he ordered "Put an end to this. Now." and he stepped to the side as a squad of Cardassian troopers charged into the room and began clearing the spiral with boots and rifle butts.

Once they had finished he studied the bloody and bruised mass of Oriaslings. Finally he said, "You know the rules. You will speak only Cardassian. And assemblies such as these are strictly forbidden."

Fallon, holding her hand on her bruised cheek said loudly, in Cardassian, "YOU'RE BAD!"

A trooper raised his rifle and Kai said, "Wait." She clapped her hands over her mouth in horror at what she had done and he continued. "Well at least _this_ one understands the rule. And seems to have some sort of spirit as well. Bring her to my office." and he turned and left, ignoring the child's shriek as she was snatched up. He kicked his boots off at the door and went in and sat down.

A few moments later the trooper brought Fallon, still struggling in his grasp. "What shall I do with her, Sir?"

"Put her down, and hand her my boots and a cleaning kit."

The trooper did so and at a dismissing wave from Kai. left the office. "What is your name?"

"Fallon." she sniffed through her tears.

"Do you know how to clean boots, Fallon?"

"Yes." she looked down, trying to stop crying.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Yes."

"Good. You should be." He studied her. "You will clean my boots now, Fallon. If you do a good job, I will give you extra food. Would you like that?"

She looked up, hopeful. "Yes."

"You hate me don't you?"

Her common sense told her to say no, but she was as honest as any of her race and instead said, "YES!"

"Would you kill me if you could?"

That gave her pause. She struggled with her innate desire to do something, anything to put an end to what she and her mother were suffering, but her peoples' pacifist philosophy was telling her that such a thing was horribly wrong. "Maybe." she finally admitted.

Kai laughed. "Well, that's a first! I like you, Fallon. But, clean the boots now. I have work to do." and he returned to his paperwork.

STARFLEET ACADEMY FLIGHT RANGE, TITAN, SOL SYSTEM

JANUARY, 2290

Sterling activated his comm system "So, escape and evade or take another try at them? They're going to figure out where we're hiding pretty quick."

"I think I got it – cut through the atmosphere further South and come up behind them. With our current vector they'll expect us to come over the top, not the bottom." Heather answered.

"We're going to overheat at these speeds in this muck – I dunno if the airframe can handle the stress of ahhh, shit." he pulled hard on the controls, tracking his Viper alongside Heather's as she rolled into the turn, stress and temperature alarms sounding in her helmet.

A few minutes later, fighting the g-forces as she curved through another tight turn, she kicked her music on again.

Laughing was hard what with the forces buffeting his fighter, but he had to anyway. "What's _this_ one?!"

"Pipeline, by The Ventures" she grunted out. "I just found it yesterday. It's awesome!" A few seconds later she called "Tally-Ho! 12 o'clock high." and pulled back on the right side-stick, Sterling's Viper glued to her port wing.

"Where the hell did they go, Ih-Tedda?"

"Down into Titan, Spruance. I told you, they're insane."

"I KNOW that, but how the hell did they flip that fast? I thought we finally had them. I've totally lost sensor track on them in that crap."

"If they're not dead from structural failure, they've gotta come out near the North pole – I've got lead."

Spruance had a bad feeling about this. Pivoting his Starhawk around so he was, in effect, flying backwards he let the sensors play over Titan's upper atmosphere. "Oh SHIT. Ih-Tedda, 6 o'clock low!"

"What?! Break, break, break!" Ih-Tedda's Starhawk began radical thrust maneuvers designed to impart a nearly random set of delta-V changes while trying to bend her vector around, but Spruance was at least going to get a shot off. Getting a lock on one of the climbing Vipers he loosed a pair of simulated Dagger anti-fighter missiles and tried to make his own trajectory changes.

"Starhawk Flight, Range Control – Hawk 2 is a kill by Viper 2 – two phaser hits, aft and port engine. Return to base."

Spruance slammed his fist on his own leg, "Mother FUCK."

Sterling's Viper rolled tightly to port and he routed shield power to his ECM system as he attempted to dodge the 'missiles' tracking on him, to no avail. "Viper Flight, Range Control – Viper 2 is a kill by Hawk 2 – two Dagger hits, cockpit and port wing. Return to base." He sat still, the Viper continuing on its last vector. He honestly didn't know what to do – it was the first time he'd ever been 'killed'. It was a strange feeling.

Back at Starfleet Academy, money was already changing hands, with one of the more 'enterprising' cadets handling the bets.

Meanwhile, Heather's Viper was groaning eerily as she tried to get an off-boresight track on Ih-Tedda's Starhawk. But Ih-Tedda was having none of it, her ECM system in intermittent beam-mode and a constant stream of flare-pulses coming out of her engines blinding Heather and her sensor systems. Even the home-on-jam mode wasn't able to get a lock. The two fighters were maxing out their acceleration, thrusters firing in random bursts in order to confuse any direct-fire targeting. The Starhawk had slightly better acceleration than the Viper and was increasing the range as Ih-Tedda ran for the rings of Saturn.

Heather looked at the safety-overrides for her engines. Then she looked at the status board, a constellation of yellow and red lights winking at her. Her energy was almost gone – barely enough left for a phaser shot and then getting home. Snarling, she tried again to get the nose of her Viper to point at the other ship long enough to get a solid track.

Ih-Tedda was watching her track closely. "That's it, little girl. Follow right along. You know you want me." Her right index finger caressed the button on her stick and she held a straight course for a second to entice the younger pilot to stay on her current track as the simulated Dagger ejected from it's rail without activating.

Heather focused on the targeting pipper which was now stabilizing on the blinding flashes of Ih-Tedda's engine. Her Viper flashed over the tiny missile simulator without noticing it and she took a chance and fired on gut-instinct just as the weapons-lock alarm screamed its warning in her helmet. "Wha..?"

"Starhawk Flight, Range Control – Hawk 1 is a kill by Viper 1 – Two phaser hits, starboard engine, starboard wing. Return to base. Viper Flight, Viper 1 is a kill by Hawk 1 – Dagger on delayed-activation hit, starboard engine. Return to base."

Hours later, Sterling and Heather were in coveralls listening to the Crew Chief on their Vipers listing off a litany of sins. "Exceeded 120% military thrust for more than 10 seconds. Special inspection required. Requires removal of both engines. Exceeded 100 gs. Special inspection required for all inertial dampeners. Requires removal of all ID's. Frame stress exceeded Max-Q for more than 10 seconds. Re-torque required for all primary fasteners, NDI required for all frame welds. Skin temperature exceeded 2,000 K. Requires NDI for all hot-spots and torque-check for all fasteners.

"Jesus, Sirs, we're basically going to have to tear these birds down and re-build them!"

"Sorry, Chief. That's why we're here to help though." Sterling answered.

Heather grinned, "It was a hell of a fight though Chief. We couldn't have done it with anyone else's birds."

He smiled back, "I know it was. I made some serious bank off of that. I won the straight bet on first kill and I won the pool on who killed who."

"But we all 'killed' each other?"

"Yup. You pilots forget, we all watch y'all too. I know everyone's favorite tricks. Anyway, it's time to get dirty, sirs."

A week later, bruised, dirty, and sore, they looked at the re-assembled Vipers with pride. Although not mechanics, they had done what they could to help with the extra work they had caused their ground crews. Heather groaned and tried to work the kinks out of her shoulder. "It's a lot easier to fly them then it is to fix the damn things. And why am I the only one who can fit in half those spaces?! Don't they design them to be fixed?"

Sterling laughed and started to rub her shoulders. "I've heard the mechanics say 'The Viper is designed for maintenance! … And a lot of it!'"

She purred, her head lolling forward and laughed. "That's funny."

"I love hearing you purr. It's like having a giant talking cat."

She rolled her eyes and laughed again. "I'm kinda weird. I can purr when I want to. For real Dosadi, it's involuntary. There are times I can't help it, but I can start whenever I want."

"I like it." he dug his palms into a knot of muscle, wishing he could get over his phobia about being with a woman. He loved pretty much everything about Heather, but more than anything, flying with her. She had never again asked him to share her bunk, something he was both thankful for and worried about. What if she thought he didn't like her? He wished he could explain to her – He had beaten his stutter almost entirely and managed to keep it hidden. If Starfleet found out, they'd not only ground him, they'd kick him out for falsifying his medical history. There was only that one situation that ever really caused him to stutter any more. He just had to figure out how to get over it. And before some hot dog like Malloy caught her eye.

Chief Petty Officer Brown, the crew chief, came in "Yo, sir. It's done." and he handed him a mid-sized bag.

"Brown, you are awesome. Barton paint that up?"

"The lady's an artist, sir. I think you'll like it."

Heather looked over her shoulder, "What is it, Andy?"

He grinned at her. "A present." He rummaged in the bag, getting a solid hold on whatever was inside. "Your helmet has been beat to shit, so...Well, Heather, you're my angel, s..s..so..." he pulled the helmet out. Previously her helmet had been the standard dull grey with 'HEATHER' stenciled across the back and streaks of cockpit paint and chips across it. He pulled out a flat-black helmet with glossy white angel wings spreading across the sides and 'HEATHER' painted in calligraphy on the back and 'ANGEL' on the front.

Her jaw dropped open. "Andy! It's gorgeous!" She reached her hand out and took her helmet, stroking her finger across the wings.

"It's within regs too. I checked. We're allowed to decorate our helmets as long as it's inoffensive."

"Speaking of which, sir." Brown interrupted, waving a crewman into the hangar.

"Huh?" Sterling asked.

"Well, the rest of us just figured that the way the two of you fly and the way you beat our birds to hell...If she's an angel..." He took another bag from the crewman. "Sir, you gotta be a demon." He pulled out a glossy deep red helmet with horns painted above the brow and black bat wings flaring across the sides and 'STERLING' done in the same calligraphic style across the back and 'DEMON' across the front.

"Holy shit! It's awesome!" he took the helmet from Brown. At another arm-wave from the NCO, the rest of the ground crew came in applauding, several of them carrying bottles of one sort or another.

Grinning broadly Brown said, "Sirs, we'd like to invite you to a little party we're throwing in honor of your latest dog-fight as well as the one with Nova Flight. AND for being some of the only officers to get your hands dirty on your own time. Don't worry – after the bets I won, I can afford it. Besides, between the two of you we're producing the best trained class of mechanics the Academy has ever graduated and that deserves a little celebration."

Several hours later, Sterling was sitting on a work table, finishing off another beer while Heather leaned back into his legs. His guitar was laying on the table next to him, but both of them were sung out by now. They had both been the recipients of a lot of good-natured ribbing from their ground crew and were feeling quite pleased with life in general. Slightly drunk, he reached his hand down and rubbed along one of her ears. He thought to himself "If she asks me tonight, dammit, I'm gonna. I don't have to talk. It's just laying there sleeping."

She cocked her head back, looking up at him. He had such a pretty smile. He had called her his angel – was that an invitation? She knew about angels from Grammie Heather. Maybe he did like her more than as just regular friends. She was sure he liked girls, not boys - he sure hadn't flinched away when Peggy kissed him, back when they almost got kicked out. She wished she didn't look like some sort of mutant cat-woman thing, neither human nor Dosadi. Maybe if she looked more like Peggy. They locked eyes for a moment.

The moment passed. He blushed and looked back up at one of the maintainers who was giving a spirited account of the damage Sterling had done to his bird trying to dodge the Daggers that Spruance had fired. She sighed mentally and looked away.


	5. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER 4**_

Mere life is not a victory, mere death is not a defeat.

- Klingon Proverb

TAJOR WORK CAMP, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

FEBRUARY, 2290

Legate Kai looked down at little Fallon, cleaning his various bits of gear. The little creature definitely had more spirit than the rest of her breed. Perhaps that was why he kept her here instead of working in the fields or factories like the rest of them. "So. Have you decided yet if you will kill me or not?"

She was more used to this verbal sparring now. It was making her Cardassian a lot better. "Not yet. I'd need a gun anyway."

He laughed. "One day I may give you one just to see what you do. There is potential in you, Fallon. You are more than the others are. Smarter. Better."

She knew she shouldn't take pride in compliments, but...to a child, praise is very influential. To a starving child, praise from the source of food even more so. She blushed.

He opened a drawer, took out a ration tray and slid it across to her. "I thought today, you would eat with me, instead of going back to your barracks." He smiled. He knew she shared her extra rations with the others in her barracks, especially those who were too ill to work and therefore received no food rations at all.

She swallowed. She looked at the tray of vegetables and fruits. The Oriaslings were herbivores both by dentition and by philosophy, and there was more than usual. "I'm supposed to eat with the others." He wasn't supposed to know she shared her food. It wasn't allowed. There were so many things that weren't allowed.

"Just this once it'll be OK. You deserve it, Fallon. I promised that if you did a good job, I'd give you extra food, didn't I? Come and enjoy it, they're very fresh."

Her mouth watered and her stomach growled. "It's OK, Fallon. You work hard – harder than so many others. And you're better at doing what we ask than anyone else. Here – try this one." he handed her a green fruit that looked like an apple; Her favorite.

Hesitatingly, she took it, looking up at him. He smiled and nodded, taking a bite of one himself, the aroma of the fruit filling the room. A short while later, she realized with horror that she had eaten it all. For the first time in months, she wasn't hungry. But, she had nothing left to take back with her. Her lips and fingers were stained with the juices of the various foods.

Kai wiped his own lips with a napkin. "There now, isn't that better?" He smiled. "You may go now, Fallon. I will see you tomorrow at the usual time. I think I will teach you how to file papers for me."

She stood up, wondering what she would say to the others, to her mother...Perhaps if she asked him for more; He was being so nice today.

While the child hesitated, he said in a stern voice. "It is time to return to your barracks, Fallon. I have other work to do."

She turned and left the office, trying not to cry. She stumbled her way back to her barracks, dreading every step. She opened the door and walked in, seeing people look up in anticipation of the extra food she always brought with her. Today, all they saw was empty hands.

Her mother asked, "Fallon? Didn't you get extra rations today?"

She thought about lying, she could say she didn't she could...no, that would only make it worse. She looked at several of the people laying sick in their bunks. They hadn't eaten at all today. She was a monster. As bad as the Cardassians. She had food and ate it all herself instead of sharing it with people who needed it. She collapsed on the floor crying in gasping hiccups.

"Fallon! What is the matter?!" Her mother tried for some time to get the hysterical child to tell her what was wrong. Finally the little girl managed to gasp out in between sobs,

"Mommy! I'm horrible! He gave me food lots of food I ate it all! I was so hungry I didn't mean to he told me to he said it was OK he said I should I'm so sorry!"

Her mother held her close, "Shhhh, child. Stop staying such things. You are not horrible. He is an evil person and he tells lies. You made a small mistake, that is all. There is no harm done. Shhhhh..."

"They're so hungry and I ate their food!" she wailed.

"Yes, child, you did. Because that is what he wanted you to do. He wants to make you like him. Cold, and evil, and full of hate and pride. He will tell you lies and tell you that it is OK to do shameful things. But Fallon, there is no shame in making such a mistake unless you repeat it. You learn from mistakes, they are the world's way of making us better. Stop your crying. No one blames you."

After a few minutes in her mother's lap, she sniffled, "They don't?"

"Look around you and see for yourself. We are not like them. You are not like them. You are better than that."

Fallon looked at the people on their sick beds. Despite the aching hunger in their bellies, there was no hate nor blame in their eyes. "I'm so sorry!" she said again, more tears welling up in her eyes.

"There will be more tomorrow, Fallon." an old man said, "Who among us might not have made that same mistake in your place? It will be all right."

Curling up in her mother's lap, she resolved to never again listen to Kai's lies. She would be stronger than him. She would be better than him.

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

FEBRUARY, 2290

The last few weeks had seen Heather and Peggy sparring more than usual over Sterling's time and attention. Technically, Peggy was in a subordinate position to Heather as she was the Squadron Leader for 4th Squadron under Heather's leadership as Bravo Flight Leader; She kept her sniping just inside of open insubordination. But she would often request extra tutoring or extra flight training specifically from Sterling, and that wasn't something Heather could order her not to do.

Whenever the two of them sat down to chow, Peggy made sure that she was also there and sat as close to Sterling as possible, laughing at his jokes and snugging her dark red uniform jacket a little tighter, or 'accidentally' brushing a leg against his. Heather was finding it exasperating. Although he gave no sign, so was Sterling.

They were sitting in the cafeteria, lingering over the remains of dinner and he was hoping to have a few minutes alone with Heather to talk about some ideas he had for a large flight-on-flight dogfight and how to make it work so they didn't violate the Captain's rule about not flying near each other. Instead, Peggy was trying to be flirty. That was one of Heather's traits that he really enjoyed – she didn't flirt. She could be fun, or funny, or serious, or infuriating, but she didn't play stupid games.

Peggy, beautiful, popular, flirty, and too smart for her own good reminded him entirely too much of the one serious girlfriend he had ever had. The first, last, and only, for that matter. A shiver went up his back and out of long habit, he clamped his mouth shut to block any stuttering.

For her part, Peggy was completely baffled. She had no difficulty with men – ever. At bars, guys lined up to buy her a drink. She could always tell which ones wanted a dumb blond and which ones wanted some actual conversation for the price of a drink. She didn't sleep around – far from it – but she liked the attention. Occasionally there would be a guy who was worth the risk of sleeping with, but not often. Andy was one of the ones who was clearly worth the risk of getting caught and gigged for a regulation breach. But he completely ignored every 'Go!' sign she threw at him. She knew he liked girls – he had a very sensual kiss when she had planted one on him a few months back. She had caught him eying her chest; maybe. Well, she was pretty sure. Why was he spending so much time with Heather? She hadn't gotten anywhere throwing herself at him, that's for sure, and she didn't have anywhere near Peggy's 'assets.'

Peggy studied Heather out of the corner of her eye. She was tiny, and furry, and had weird animal ears. Definitely nowhere near enough 'endowment' upstairs. Her face was more cat than person. What did he see in her? Was it just that she flew as well as he did? That didn't make any sense. She flipped her blond hair back over her ear and considered it some more, smiling at him and give him her best 'smoldering' look.

He quickly looked down at his tray. After a moment, he stood up, picked his tray up and said, "G..gotta go." and turned around and left.

Peggy watched him leave. "Well! That was weird."

Frustrated, Heather snapped out, "Are you kidding? Why don't you just lay down on the table and say 'Take me! Take me now!'"

Her voice ice-cold Peggy said, "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh come off it. He's not interested in you. Stop trying to rape him for all the gods' sakes!" her voice was getting louder as weeks of frustration and irritation were finding an outlet.

"How would _you_ know what he's interested in, bitch?" She snapped back, her voice going up to match Heather's. They were starting to attract attention across the cafeteria, most of the other cadets looking uncomfortable.

One junior, well known as a complete waste of DNA, said to his friends, "Gonna be a _real_ cat-fight." and laughed at his own joke.

The senior sitting across from him just said, "Shut up, dipshit."

"Maybe because I'm actually his _friend_! Maybe because I actually _talk_ to him like a person instead of like a piece of meat!"

"You have _no_ idea what you're saying. You're just someone he flies with! You wanna know why he keeps turning you down?" She was shouting now, "You're not even human! You're just some...thing! You were made in a lab!" And realizing that she had gone too far, she took a half step back from the table.

Heather was stunned. Her emotions warred between the need to beat her senseless, a deep hurt at what Peggy – who had been a good friend – had said, fear that what she said was true, and utter humiliation that all this was happening in the middle of the cafeteria. The two of them were glaring at each other when Mike Malloy came up.

"Peggy, that was way outta line." He turned to Heather, "Heather..." but she was already turning on her heel and walking out of the cafeteria as quickly as she could without looking like she was running. He watched her go. "What the _fuck_, Lynd!"

"What? She asked for it."

Two other pilots, the leaders of 1st and 2nd Squadron came over. Inga Von Beck sat down and said, "Peggy, have a seat."

"I don't feel like..."

The other pilot a broad-shouldered Finn, Paavo Puurunen said a bit more forcefully, "She wasn't asking, Lynd. It's long past time we all had a talk."

She sat down, crossing her arms over her chest. "Fine. Talk."

Malloy looked at the other two pilots, then back to Peggy. "Peggy, that was the most hideous thing I think I've ever heard one person say to another. Especially someone who's been your friend and nothing but nice to you."

She turned her head and studied the wall.

"What's he to you, anyway?"

There was a long pause. "He's a friend. I'd like him to be more."

Paavo said, "I don't think _he_ wants to be more. And why this big play for Sterling? Get tired of all the other pretty boys?"

She turned and glared at him, "I do _not _sleep around._"_

Inga held her hand up, stopping Paavo's response, "No one said you did." She was at least as pretty as Peggy, but quite a bit less outgoing; Unless she chose to be, which wasn't often. "Peggy, you can have your pick of any guy you run across. You weren't this interested in Sterling last year – so why _are_ you pushing so hard to get him interested?" She waited for an answer. "It's because he _isn't_ interested, isn't it?"

Peggy glared at her. "I do _not_ think so."

"I do." Inga responded. Malloy raised an eyebrow and she continued, "It drives you nuts doesn't it? He's paying all this attention to another woman, one you don't think is as pretty as you, and so you start questioning how pretty you really are, so you want to prove that you can catch his eye."

"Don't be ridiculous."

Paavo said, "On target, Von Beck." and Peggy scowled at him.

"It's made you fucking _ugly _Peggy." Inga said quietly. She studied her fellow pilot. "And you know what? I'd always heard that you can be the most physically beautiful person on Earth and still be truly ugly. I never believed it until now. And I really don't think I want anything to do with someone that ugly." she stood up and left.

Paavo stood and said, "Lynd, like she said, you can have anyone to any degree you choose. Heather's unique and different enough that there aren't that many people who are willing to be close to her, much less emotionally close. I think I'm with Inga. Until you decide to rejoin the human race, fuck off." He flipped Peggy the bird and followed Inga out.

Stung, she snapped at Malloy, "Well?"

He studied her for a few moments and shook his head sadly. Without saying a word he pushed his chair back, stood up and walked out of the cafeteria as well, leaving her sitting alone. She stayed there for quite some time trying to convince herself that she was right and everyone else was wrong.

Heather was still curled into a ball on her bunk where she had been for several hours. She had long since cried herself out. There was no one here who knew her culture – not that she really had a culture. She had a weird mix of human and Dosadi cultures. She always thought she prided herself on being able to fit easily in both, but she knew she really didn't fit in either. She didn't smell right to Dosadi boys, human boys thought she looked like an animal. None of the boys on Dosad thought she was pretty; Her fur was a weird color and spotted and her ears were a funny shape. The only people who ever said she was pretty were her family, and that doesn't count. They said things like that just to make you feel good, not because it was true. Girls on Dosad thought there was something wrong with her and steered clear, while girls on Earth simply excluded her when they weren't stabbing her in the back.

She'd had a few close friends on Dosad, and here on Earth and played at being mates a few times, but nothing ever worked out. They always left for someone more like themselves; she was just a practice run. She thought she had finally figured it out here at the Academy. There were plenty of aliens, so she wasn't the only different one. Her classmates seemed to really like and respect her and then she had met Mike Malloy and she really felt like she had found a home. They both figured out pretty quickly that they weren't meant to be mates – but he was one of her closest friends ever. He could make her feel pretty even while he teased her about looking like a cat. She wished he were here right now, so she could hold him and not feel so completely alone.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. What was wrong with her? No, she thought, what was right with her? After all, what would someone like Andy ever see in someone like her? They were the best flying team ever, she was sure. If he loved flying with her half as much as she loved flying with him, that was something at least. She thought he did. He liked her. He had to – she looked up at her helmet, hanging on the wall like a display. It was supposed to be down in the LSE (Life Support Equipment) locker, but she always 'forgot' to check it in. The word ANGEL looked back at her.

Maybe he did see her as an angel. A mythical thing. Not real. Definitely not human. Not Dosadi either. Just...a thing. She curled back up again.

It was midnight when there was a soft knock on her door. She thought about ignoring it, but after a few moments, the rap-rap-rap came again. A real knock, not the usual door chime. Wiping her eyes she called out, "Come."

The door cycled open and standing there was Peggy Lynd. "Wait! Please, don't say anything. I want to apologize. May I come in, please?" Heather couldn't decide what to do. "Please?"

Not trusting her voice, she nodded. She knew she looked like a disaster – she had been crying for hours and her nose had been running.

Peggy took a couple steps into the room and sat down on the floor, looking straight down. "Heather, I'm really, truly, completely sorry for what I said to you." She looked up and Heather realized she had been crying as well. "I was horrible, and I would take it back if I could. I didn't mean to hurt you...No, scratch that. I meant to hurt you, and I did hurt you, and I'm sorry." She looked down again. "I'm jealous. I didn't know it, but some people set me straight. I didn't even know what a total bitch I was being to you for a long time."

Heather blinked in surprise, unable to speak.

"I'm insecure." she laughed a little, "Did you know that? I didn't."

"What?"

Peggy sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Paavo and Inga told me. Well, they told me that was the reason I was chasing Andy." She looked up, "I'm so sorry, Heather. I'll stop. I'm really not that person." She took out her PADD. "I found something for you. It's an old song, and it's really sad, so I think you'll like it. I don't think there's anything else out there by this person, but the title fits you. I'll just leave it." She stood up and backed the two steps towards the door. As it cycled open she said, "I hope you'll forgive me, but I understand if you don't." And she left, the door 'swoosh'-ing closed.

Heather stared at the door for a long time before glancing down at the floor. Peggy had left her PADD. That simply wasn't done – your PADD held all your contacts, your messages, your files, it tied you in to the main computer, it was vital to day to day life. And she had left it on the floor. Unlocked.

She reached down and picked it up. There was a song keyed up with the title '"COURAGE KNOWS NO BOUNDS" - Heather Alexander.'She tapped it into life and a guitar strummed softly:

1 _I looked across the battlefield,  
Blood seeping from my wounds-  
My comrades, they did never yield,  
For courage knows no bounds-  
And yet, I thought as I stood there,  
Of all that it had cost-  
For what we gained, it seemed not fair ,  
For all that we had lost-_

They spoke of honour, faith and pride,  
defending for our home-  
Through honour all my friends have died,  
their faith left me alone-  
We fought for greed, we fought for fame,  
we killed too much to tell-  
The devil and God were both the same,  
we worshiped only Hell-

We fought it seemed for a thousand years,  
a million nights and days-  
Sharing one laugh with a hundred tears,  
seeing clearly through a haze-  
Then came that day I know not when,  
beneath a blood red sun,  
A-top a pile of dying men,  
they said that we had won-

Another tract of land is all  
the territory gained-  
Will that ever pay for all  
the lives here lost or maimed?  
Bodies lying all around,  
blood bathing them in red,  
Their white eyes staring at the sun,  
these, the countless dead?

I looked across the battlefield,  
blood seeping from my wounds-  
My comrades, they did never yield,  
for courage knows no bounds-  


She held the PADD for a long time after that, playing the song twice more before transferring it onto her own. She touched the lock, closing off access to Peggy's PADD and set it on her bureau. Laying back down on her bed, she fell asleep looking at the word ANGEL on her flight helmet.

The next morning, Heather made her way to the cafeteria a little later than normal. She hadn't slept all that well. Picking up a light breakfast, she looked across the room and saw Peggy sitting alone at an empty table – the only table with just one person sitting at it, in fact. Normally there was never an empty seat by her. She paused a moment and then walked over to her table. "May I sit with you?"

Peggy looked up and smiled hopefully, "Yes, please do!"

Heather sat down and pulled out Peggy's PADD. She slid it across the table to the other woman. "Thank you."

Peggy reached for the device and Heather put her hand on top of hers. Peggy looked up at her. Heather said "It's OK." and smiled.

"Are you sure, Heather? I mean..." she left the rest unsaid.

"I'm sure." she squeezed Peggy's hand. "And I love the song."

Peggy laughed with relief, "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. I was trying to find something you didn't have and I saw the name and the singer's name and it just seemed so perfect – I'd never heard you play one like it so I was pretty sure you didn't have it."

"I didn't." She let go of her hand and picked up a fork.

Across the cafeteria, Inga and Paavo were watching the exchange and wondering what was being said. Paavo said, "Huh. How the hell did that happen so fast?"

Inga watched for a moment longer, "Lynd's not stupid. I think she listened to us better than I thought she had." Seeing Sterling coming across the cafeteria she continued, "Oh shit. Here's the acid test."

He paused for a step, sighed, and continued on to Peggy and Heather's table. Accepting the inevitable, he sat next to Peggy. "Good morning!"

Peggy looked at him and said, "Good morning. Sorry if I've been a bitch lately, Andy. Anyway, I have to go. See ya!" And she stood up, grabbed her tray and left.

At their table, Paavo chuckled, "I will be dipped in dogshit."

Sterling said to Heather, "What was that all about?"

"We kinda got into it yesterday, but it's OK now."

"You did? What about?"

"Girl stuff." she smiled at him, "None of your business, nosy."

"Oookkaaaay...Anyway, I've got some ideas for some training – this is the first chance I've had to talk with you alone..."


	6. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER 5**_

"_Seize the time... Live now. Make now always the most precious time. Now will never come again."_

_- CPT Jean-Luc Picard, USS Enterprise (Human)_

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

MARCH, 2290

Admiral Angie Stone sat in Captain Spruance's office early Friday morning. "I'm glad you could see me on such short notice, Captain. I really hadn't expected to be back on Earth quite yet – something of a happy coincidence, really."

"Always a pleasure, Admiral. What can I help you with?"

"There's a cadet I'd like to steal for a weekend pass, if I could."

He cocked his head, "What for, if I may ask?"

"I'm an old friend of the family and I wanted to check on her progress and take her to visit some family at the same time. Really, nothing more than a pleasure cruise if you will, so I completely understand if this isn't possible, or even advisable."

"Well, we've just finished mid-term exams, so I could probably spare one cadet for a weekend. Who is it?" He tapped at his desktop, prepared to bring up student records.

"I believe she enlisted under the name Heather Wilkes She's..."

"Oh. _That_ one." he interrupted, lowering his hands to his lap.

She stopped, mid-sentence. "That's not a good sign, Captain."

He laughed, "No, no – not like that. But let me just say I'm thrilled that she is the only one of her family to attend here."

"Well, her father was in my class – in fact, he was the Goat that year."

"Yes, I looked at his records. Causing problems seems to run in the family, but she's closer to the top of her class than the bottom. A _lot_ closer."

"She's been causing trouble? That's not like the young woman that I know."

"I'm sorry, Admiral, I'm not being clear. The problems she causes are due to her exuberance, energy, and irrepressibility, especially when flying with another of our cadets. I had to take steps."

"Steps?" she interrupted, "Romantic involvement? You and I both know that's as common as PT here, Captain."

He laughed again, "Yes, shocking, isn't it? Take a group of adventurous, highly fit, highly motivated, highly intelligent young men and women, put them together in close conditions and under high stress and they tend to hook up with each other. Who could predict such a thing?"

"And of course neither of _US_ ever did such a thing during our days here..." Stone smiled.

"No, never." he winked, "In any case, no, to the best of my knowledge the two are not romantically involved – which I'm actually rather surprised about as they are always together and there was an...a near incident in the cafeteria with another female cadet recently over the boy in question."

"So what is the issue?"

"When the two of them fly together, it is as though they are two halves of the same being. They are nearly impossible to defeat and as nearly impossible to restrain. Safety, regulations, orders – it is as though they occupy some other universe when they are in the cockpit. The Commandant and I had to issue special orders to deal with the situation."

"Special orders?"

"Yes, the two of them are student commanders of a 3-squadron flight each and are forbidden to fly anywhere near each other during the week and required to fly against each other without limits on the weekends."

She laughed, "Oh my. I'd bet Risk Management had a collective coronary over that one."

"More than one. But it was either that or kick them both out and I don't want to lose that caliber of student for that sort of reason. Since we yoked them with student command, they've been exemplary cadets and outstanding leaders and trainers."

"So then I may take her with me?"

"I'll tell you what. Take them both. I've loaded them both heavily with extra duties; They're capable of handling it, but a break would be good for them, keep them sharp."

"Both? Who is the other cadet?"

"Oh, I didn't mean to force him on you – I offer him to you if you wish to have him along. He is Cadet Andrew Sterling, cadet leader of Alpha Flight, while she commands Bravo Flight."

"I think I'll take you up on that, Captain – at least as far as dinner tonight is concerned. I'd like to meet this young man."

A few minutes later, Stone was standing at the PT field, watching the formation of cadets come double-timing back from a run. She waited patiently while the formation leader ran them through stretches and cool-down exercises, taking a moment to collar one of the assistants. The assistant in turn, spoke in the leader's ear as he was finishing up the morning's PT. He glanced over at the Admiral and called the group to order:

"Company...Attention!" He glanced over his formation, "Assemble to the right...MARCH!" When they had completed this movement he continued, "With the exception of Cadets Sterling and Heather, fall out to personal hygiene and chow. Company...FALL OUT!"

"Cadets Sterling and Heather! Report to Admiral Stone! Group...FALL OUT!"

The two double-timed over to the Admiral, Sterling wondering what they had screwed up now.

He sounded off loud and strong, "Cadets Sterling and Heather reporting as ordered, Ma'am!"

"Relax, cadet. Hello, Heather."

"Hello Aunt Angie...er...Admiral."

He looked over at Heather, "AUNT..." and shut up.

Stone grinned and said, "Cadets, I have managed to spring you both for a 48 hour pass starting after final formation. So, you will report to me at CQ in civilian attire appropriate for a nice dinner at 1800 hrs. Now, go get cleaned up and get to the day's training. Fall out!"

They both saluted and double-timed off to the barracks.

When they got there, several of their squadron mates were anxiously waiting to question them, "What's up? Who was that? What'd you guys do NOW?!"

Sterling said, "AUNT ANGIE?!"

Heather said, "She's not _really _my Aunt, that's just the closest word for what we call it on Dosad. She's a really close friend of my fathers and I've known her since I was little."

Several voices clamored for attention, "She's your aunt? What'd she want? How come she's here?"

Sterling shook his head, "We scored a 48 hour pass!"

"What?! No way – Take us with you! Loafers!"

"Suck it!" he laughed and headed in to the showers.

Later that evening they were sitting at a private table at The Franciscan, with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge while they waited for their dinners to arrive. "Heather, you never told me you were related to an Admiral!"

"I never told anyone. Not even Malloy."

Stone sipped her wine, content to simply listen.

"How come?"

"I didn't want people thinking I thought I was only there because she pulled strings, or that I figured I could get away with things because I had pull. I just wanted to be me."

Stone spoke, "So I'm guessing she didn't tell you about the other...oddities in her family either?"

"Others?"

"Aunt Angie..."

"I'm not sure how many will mean anything to you...Do you know who her father is?"

"No?"

"Have you heard of Captain Thomas Wilkes?"

"I don't think so. What ship?"

"No ship – he's an Engineer, but he's also a spy."

"He is NOT!" Heather protested.

"A spy? Are you serious?" he asked.

"Very. And Heather, dear, if he's not a spy, how do you explain your Uncle Jons?"

Sterling, more puzzled than ever asked, "Uncle Jons?"

"He's not really my Uncle, that's just..."

"Yeah, I get it. Who is he?"

Stone chuckled, "He's the head of Hydran Intelligence, but he spent the better part of 5 decades stealing information from the Federation, Klingons, Romulons, and God alone knows who else."

"Your father's a spy?"

"No!"

"Shall I tell him about Cousin Ceena?" Stone asked, taking another sip of her wine.

"She's not..." Heather tried to explain.

"Yeah, I get it, I get it. Who is she? The President of Vulcan or something?"

Stone laughed, "No, she married Jons' son Tir. They're Xeno-biologists. If you study the field at all you will have have heard of some of their work in comparative mitochondrial DNA in photo-genetic cells across the Alpha Quadrant. They're also, as part of House Jons, fabulously wealthy.

Hmmm. Have you heard from your brother Corin, lately?"

"Not for a couple of months. Why?" she asked.

"He's now a tactical officer aboard the _ISS Tarak_. That's a Raider-class vessel, Sterling."

"Aren't those pirates?" he asked.

"More like Special Forces. They have a very annoying tendency to show up where they're least expected and least wanted. Very fast, very heavily armed, and cloaked. The fact that they dress like pirates when off-duty does not help their image any."

"Jesus, Heather!"

"Perhaps you should hope she doesn't take after her mother." She winked at Heather, who glared back at her.

"Why?"

"Have you studied the battle at Airdrie yet?"

"Airdrie? No?"

"Oh that's right, that's third year Fleet Tactics. Well, when you get to that seminar, you'll view some tapes of infantry combat on a Gorn battlestation. Pay particular attention to the Dosadi Marine who will be discussed. Usually a Starfleet Security officer presents that briefing."

"You're mom's a Marine?"

"A rather famous one, at that..." Stone supplied.

"Heather, is your whole family like that?!"

"No, no" Stone grinned again. "Her brother Rollin and his mate are nice, quiet, farmers here on Earth. And her sister Nollos is something of a bard back on Dosad– but she's becoming pretty well known."

"Aunt Angie, that's enough!"

Stone laughed again, the musical sound attracting admiring glances from a number of men in the restaurant. "I'm sorry Heather, it's an old Earth tradition for relatives to embarrass their younger relations in front of their friends. And you're my favorite niece, so you get picked on!"

"I'm your _only _niece!"

Stone stuck her tongue out at Heather who responded in kind. Sterling thought that was the first and very probably the last time he would see an admiral stick their tongue out.

She continued, "Well, Heather, this Sunday is Easter and I was planning on dragging you to your grandparents so that you could attend services with them." Heather squealed like a little girl and Stone added, "Sterling, I'm sure you'd be welcome there, it's in Leyburn, North Yorkshire, England; From what I've heard about your flying, I'd like to get to know you a little bit better as well. I like to keep my eye out for potential assets for upcoming operations, but this is an invitation, not an order. You've got the free time to do with as you please, as long as you're back before first formation Monday morning."

He thought for all of a second and a half, "I'd love to come if I'm welcome. My family lives in Ft. William, maybe I could sneak up there for a couple of hours too."

"Or longer – as I said, your time is your own this weekend." She thought to herself, and I'll get to study the two of you together as well.

"Probably not longer. They...Well, they were never happy with my decision to join Starfleet." He looked down, "They're xenophobes. They don't even like people who don't speak _English_."

Heather looked stricken. Stone covered for her, "What about Standard?"

"They speak Standard when they have to, but they don't like it. I'm pretty ashamed of them, actually. But..."

"We can't pick our relatives, Sterling." She glanced at Heather and thought, "Well, except in one case..." The waiter interrupted their conversation, bringing salads and wine.

NORTH YORKSHIRE, ENGLAND, EARTH

MARCH, 2290

The vet let loose of the sheep's leg, watching the ewe keep the weight off it, the early morning fog adding a dampness to everything. "You know, Wilkes, whenever you call me out here, I never know if I'm going to be treating one of your animals or young Rollin here."

The elder Rollin chuckled while the Dosadi said, "Ah, I'm fairly sure that none o' the rest o' yer patients talk. An ye'd be afraid of what they'd say if they could!" By now his English had lost much of the usual Dosadi accent and was instead picking up a Yorkshire brogue.

Dr. April laughed and said, "A point for you then, lad. It looks like footrot is all. I'll get you a spray from the lorry and make sure you keep their hooves trimmed, right? And we'll set up a walk-through tray for them as well to keep it from spreading."

There was a squeal from the roadway and the three men turned to see Heather sprinting towards them. She jumped in the air and wrapped her arms and legs around the big Yorkshireman, much to his discomfort, while her brother and the veterinarian chuckled.

"Lass! Di' ye run awa' from t'Academy, now?"

Squeezing him tight she said, "No, grandpa! Aunt Angie got us a pass!"

Her brother said, "Us?" looking at the tall young man standing slightly behind Admiral Stone. In his civilian clothes he looked like he had walked off of a mens' fashion runway.

Before Heather could let loose of her grandfather and introduce them, Sterling held his hand out to Rollin, introducing himself, "Cadet Andy Sterling. I'm pleased to meet you."

Rollin rubbed his hand down his coveralls and took Sterling's hand with a firm shake. "I'm Rollin, Heather's oldah brother." Sterling was surprised to see that he was marked quite a bit more like a full Dosadi, though his face and ears were closer in shape to Heather's.

She snorted "By all of 5 minutes."

At 5', Rollin was not tall by human standards but he was half a foot taller than Heather. "Still oldah." He messed up the fur between her ears.

She ducked away from his hand and said, "This is my Grandpa Wilkes."

Sterling shook his hand, trying not to wince at the powerful squeeze. The big man was not quite glaring at him. "Pleased to meet you, sir." He was proud that he kept his voice steady and resisted the urge to check for fractures when he got his hand back. He wasn't used to having to look _up_ at people, but Rollin Wilkes was several inches taller and looked like he could carry a small car without difficulty.

The vet smiled and said, "I'm Dr. April, lad. Always glad to meet a friend of the Wilkes' clan, they've added some much needed fresh air to Leyburn!"

Rollin stifled a grin and said, "Grandfather, I'll take them up t'house if you're OK t'finish up here?"

"Aye."

A few minutes later the four of them trooped into the house, Rollin calling out, "Grandmother! We've go' guests!"

Mrs. Heather Wilkes came out of her kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishrag and caught sight of her granddaughter. "Heather!" and they ran to each other, embracing immediately.

Rollin turned to Sterling. "I'll save ye some confusion. My grandfather and I are both named Rollin, an' my sister an' grandmother are both named Heather."

Sterling shook his head, "I'll stick with Mr and Mrs Wilkes then."

"Aye, tha's wise." he grinned at the taller human who smiled back.

Early that evening, Sterling leaned back and groaned. "I think I've eaten so much I'm going to die. That was the best food I've ever eaten."

Grandmother Wilkes smiled, "Flatterer. Ye saved room for desser' now? I won't be sendin' ye t'services hungry!"

"My parents will be thrilled that I'm going to Easter Services, Mrs Wilkes. I had no idea that Heather's family were Church of England like my parents are."

She said, "Tis t'faith tha' matters, nae t'building."

"Yes, ma'am."

The family spent the rest of the time before services in pleasant conversation as any re-united family would. By the time services were over and they had returned to the house, everyone was very ready to head to bed. While they were going through the front door, Sterling found his path blocked by Mr. Wilkes' imposing bulk.

He turned and looked down at him. "Lad,"

"Sir?"

"There will be nah funny business under my roof t'night."

"No, SIR!"

He studied Sterling for a moment in the light of the porch lamp, finally nodding and turning to go inside.

Andy hesitated for a second wondering if it would be safer to sleep in the barn, then followed him in. He wondered if he was going to have to deal with her brother as well.

Fortunately, the Dosadi look at such things in a very different light than humans do and their only encounter was a friendly wave from Rollin and his mate as they headed off to their room. He went in to the room Mrs. Wilkes had set up for him and looked around. He thought this must have been Heather's father's room. Pictures of the same man from a young age up to what must have been secondary school, lots of books on every subject under the sun and a couple of models of ancient aircraft.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and began undressing. He realized that he felt very at home with these people. More than his real home, in fact. The easy mixing of so many different types of people at the Wilkes' table, the friendly acceptance, all combined to put him at his ease. As long as he kept clear of any 'funny business', he grinned to himself. Obviously they had jumped to the conclusion that he was 'involved' with their granddaughter. And just as obviously wouldn't stand idly by while someone hurt her. Or behaved improperly towards her for that matter.

He thought about how much he had learned about Heather in the past 24 hours and it shocked him. He thought he knew her from flying with her, from studying with her, from leading other cadets with her. What he knew was who she was in the world of Starfleet; Now he was filling in a lot of blanks about who she was outside of duty and that seemed to make her considerably more...complete. Which didn't help his problem at all. He _liked_ these people – a lot.

Now he wanted to be 'involved' with her even more, and the more he wanted that, the more terrified he became that the same thing would happen. He couldn't stand that again. The shame, the humiliation, the jokes, the laughter, and he just couldn't risk it. She'd find out he was a stutterer for sure then. He'd be grounded, kicked out, and probably arrested for falsifying his enlistment papers.

But she wasn't like Kristie. He hadn't thought Kristie was like that either though, he argued with himself. Miserable, wishing more than anything he could be holding Heather right that moment, he lay back on the big old bed, hearing the springs squeak. He sighed heavily. A few moments later he heard soft footsteps outside his door and he held his breath. No one else in the house was that light. Maybe...

He didn't know what to hope for.

Outside his door, Heather paused. Wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts she thought she looked normal enough. Well, she couldn't hide her legs. They were clearly not human. But still, maybe he'd want to share a bed tonight. She raised her hand to knock, but stopped short. No, she decided, that wouldn't be fair. He was a guest. He might feel obligated to do whatever she asked, not because he wanted to. Human guesting traditions were complex.

She lowered her arm again, sagging her shoulders and walked back to her room, padding along on nearly silent bare feet.

Sterling realized he had been holding his breath. Maybe it was for the best, he decided. Sharing a bed with her would almost certainly qualify as 'funny business' and he really wanted to keep all his limbs attached to the rest of his body.


	7. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER 6**_

"_You have only always to do what is right. It will become easier by practice, and you enjoy in the midst of your trials the pleasure of an approving conscience."_

_- GEN Robert E Lee, Earth (Human)_

TAJOR WORK CAMP, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

MARCH, 2290

Legate Kai watched the little girl organizing the data files in their holders. "You've learned very quickly Fallon. I'm pleased enough that I won't even punish you for continuing to share your rations with those who do no work and so deserve no food."

She paused, frightened, then continued on trying to pretend that she wasn't afraid of the monster. She needed to be brave, to do what he told her to. People depended upon her. They needed her. She was strong! But when there was a knock at the door, she jumped and almost dropped the data rod she was holding.

"COME!" Kai bellowed. The door opened and a green Orion male came into the room, "Legate, we have loaded up your shipment and are ready to leave."

"Excellent, Dejan. Perhaps you can help us find a market for something new."

The Free Trader smiled, "One can always look for new markets. What are the goods?" He watched the little girl working quietly and looked back to Kai.

"I'm not entirely sure – We've got a planet full of these clever little animals; nearly half a billion! We need to make room for a Cardassian colony and as you know, this world is very resource poor. They're simply in the way. I'm thinking they could be sold as household servants, or perhaps there may be a market for the hides. Their markings are interesting."

Dejan Lilac was horrified, but he was a veteran of many, many negotiations and showed no sign. "Animals? I thought they talked? Aren't they sentient?" He was an occasional slaver, but selling sentient beings' _skins_ went beyond even his morals. There were standards when keeping and selling slaves. What he had seen on Orias III had sickened him.

Kai laughed. "No, no, don't be silly. They've mastered a few phrases and a few tricks. It takes a lot of training with traditional techniques to get them to do the simplest tasks. But once trained, they are quite reliable. But they are so small, perhaps they wouldn't be of any use in any heavy labor. Still, they could be used as research animals, household servants, or perhaps as game animals for those species who enjoy the hunt!"

Keeping his expression carefully neutral he said, "There could be considerable profit in the right markets, but it will take some time to find and develop those markets." He gestured at Fallon, who had frozen in place. "Perhaps you would let me take this one as a sample?" The level of monstrosity he was seeing was unlike anything he had encountered on many barbaric worlds. The use of living creatures for research had gone out of style across the known galaxy centuries ago and deliberately starving any living being was unspeakable.

Kai shook his head, "No, I finally have this one trained enough to be of some use, I'll not part with her. Pick one of the others – but I expect to be paid in full once a price is established."

Lilac bowed his head, "Of course, Legate. I wouldn't jeopardize my relationship with such a valued trading partner for such a small amount. Especially not with so much potential profit awaiting me!"

"Good. I will see you in what, three months?"

"That is my next scheduled run this direction, Legate. I may shift that date as I shop my sample around."

"That's fine. Safe travels, Dejan."

The Orion left the office and tried to think what to do. A younger adult female Oriasling was shuffling past, walking towards the further barracks, obviously tired and worn down. Gesturing, he ordered two of his crew "That one. Take her to the ship and put her in the slave holds."

Back inside the office, Fallon was trying hard not to pee herself. What she had heard today went beyond any nightmare she had ever had, even after all that had happened to her recently. For a brief moment she thought she heard her mother scream her name, but that was silly. Her mother was back in their barracks. She looked at Kai, her black eyes wide, "We're not animals!"

He laughed, "Of course you are, Fallon. You think you're people? What a charming belief!"

"We are!"

"And why do you think that?"

"We can talk and think and we've got hands and...We just ARE!"

Shaking his head and with a sad expression Kai said, "No Fallon, there is more to being 'people' than being able to talk. There are many animals across the galaxy that can talk and learn tricks like you have, but they're not 'people'.

"Look, you have no weapons, no ships, no machines, nothing that marks you as different from an animal."

"We have houses!"

"Fallon, even clorats build little wooden houses in the water, and they have a language of their own as well. That's what those little chittering sounds are, you know."

"But...But...we...we build things and we have tools!"

"So do the clorats, They build great dams and they use flat pieces of wood as barges to haul mud. They build more things than you do."

She was confused. She knew they were people. But what made them people? How did you tell? "Well, _we_ don't go around killing things just because."

Kai clapped, "Exactly, Fallon! Animals don't do that. PEOPLE do that. We kill to conquer, we kill to take what we need or want, we kill to ensure the safety of our species. We kill to gain food. We kill for a thousand different reasons. Animals like you don't, they simply accept whatever happens to them as unchangeable."

She struggled not to cry. She wasn't an animal. She wasn't.

"Oh, Fallon, it's OK. You've become my favorite pet, I didn't mean to upset you. Here, take some extra rations back with you and share them out as a reward for being so good today. I give you permission."

She would be strong. She would be brave. She would take the monster's food and get away with it. Carefully, she picked up the ration tray and politely said, "Thank you, sir." And left as quickly as she could, trotting back to the barracks as fast as possible.

Pushing the door open with her backside, she proudly displayed the extra rations, "Mommy! I got even more food for everyone! And he's going to sell us! Or kill us! Or something!"

An older woman took the rations and began distributing them.

"Where's Mommy?"

"She hasn't come back yet, child. She went to Barracks 1 to help with the ill."

"Kai said we're animals, Gor." She explained Kai's argument to the old woman.

"He is a sick being, child. He has things completely backwards. Animals kill without thinking – much as the Cardassians do. They kill simply because they can and because they want to. We are more deserving of the title 'people' than they – 'people' are moral animals, Fallon. We have the ability to know what is right and what is wrong, and to act accordingly. Animals react on instinct, doing only that which gains them rewards and avoiding that which causes them pain.

"A very long time ago, our people decided that all of the shiny _things_ that the Cardassians think makes them people were only making us evil. They allowed us to kill and destroy and hurt without thought, without conscience. We nearly destroyed all life on this planet, so we turned away from all of that and dedicated our lives to _living_ – to being part of the living world, to living morally. We do as little harm as possible, understanding that having the ability to do a thing does not mean that we _should_ do a thing. We are moral. We are people because we choose to be moral.

"Do you understand, Fallon?"

"I think so, Gor. But he is going to sell us! Or kill us for our skins! Or I don't even remember, it's horrible!"

The old woman sat down next to the child. "Yes, it is horrible, Fallon. And I know you want to stop it somehow, because you are a kind and compassionate and _moral_ person. But only God knows the consequences of all actions. Were you to do what is in your heart – somehow kill all of those who are hurting us..." Seeing Fallon's guilty expression she said, "Child, it is OK to have those feelings. Were you an animal, you would act on them. Because you are _not_ an animal, because you are not evil, you will do the right thing and endure. But were you to somehow magically kill all the Cardassians, what would happen? You do not know. _Your_ pain would stop, but how much pain would you cause others? How much horror would cascade from your actions, with the best of intentions? You cannot know.

"Even if you were to somehow be granted the power to kill them all and return us to our homes, I would not want you to bear that burden."

"What if an angel came down and drove them all away?"

"Fallon, there is no such thing as angels. But were that to happen, we would accept it as we do the suffering the Cardassians have brought to us. It is life, Fallon and it is what we make of it."

"There aren't supposed to be monsters either, Gor, but there are. The Cardassians are monsters."

The old woman looked at the little girl. "Don't make them into something more than they are, Fallon. They are evil people, but that is all that they are."

Another Oriasling came into the barracks. "Fallon, you must be strong."

"I am strong! Wait. What's happened? What's wrong?"

The man knelt down and took hold of her shoulders. "The green-skinned man has taken your mother away in his ship."

She blinked. She struggled not to scream. Part of her mind simply blew a fuse and shut down and she said coldly, "Then she will have food." The seven year-old stood up and went to make sure that her extra rations had gone to those who needed it most while the two adults stared after her, shocked.

FEDERATION EMBASSY TO THE ORION FREE TRADERS, ALPHA QUADRANT

MARCH, 2290

Dejan Lilac was frustrated and getting angry. "You do not understand what it is that I have seen."

"You've made it quite plain. The Cardassians have some animals penned up in bad conditions and you dislike it." the bureaucrat said.

"These are not animals! They are sentient beings! You've talked with her! What test do you need to perform so that you open your piggish eyes and _see?_"

"There is no need to be rude. What I consider this being is of no consequence. They are on a Cardassian planet in Cardassian space. The matter is strictly internal. Besides, I have no proof of what you've said – just the word of a..." the pudgy little man paused and smirked, "Free Trader. Would you have the Federation go to war because your delicate sensibilities have been upset?"

Lilac stood up. "You are a pig and you are a fool. I will find someone else who will listen to sense and do what must be done. Surely somewhere in the Federation is a man. They cannot all be pigs." He spat on the desk and left, taking Fallon's mother in tow.

After he left, the pudgy man unclenched his jaw and quickly encoded a message on his PADD. He Keyed it for a sub-space burst transmission to piggy-back with the Embassy's usual traffic where it wouldn't be noticed by the regular staff.

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

MARCH, 2290

"Come!" Captain Spruance bellowed. The door cycled open and two cadets stepped inside.

"Cadets Sterling and Heather reporting as ordered, sir!" Andy sang out.

"Have a seat, cadets." After they did so, he smiled, "I'd like to congratulate you both. It's been over three months since your last safety violation!"

Both cadets blushed and shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

He laughed, "I'd also like to point out that you've set a record for Academy flight hours both individually and as a class for this last quarter. You have also achieved one of the highest class GPAs in Academy history for that same quarter. That speaks well of your leadership."

"Thank you, sir!" Sterling said.

"No need for thanks. Those are cold, hard facts. But I do have something you can thank me for."

"Sir?"

"There is an actual mission that needs to be flown."

"Combat?" Heather interrupted excitedly.

Spruance laughed, "No. And don't interrupt, cadet. We have an F-Class shuttlecraft loaded up with some new, highly valuable and very delicate research equipment to be delivered to the Vulcan Science Academy on short notice. I've selected you two to pilot it. Flown cautiously, the trip should take you about four days each way. You'll deliver the gear, spend one full day on Vulcan for rest and recovery, and then return."

"Sir! That's awesome!" Heather said excitedly.

Always the thinker, Sterling said, "Sir, what about our Flights?"

"This will be a perfect chance to see how they do without you. If you've done your jobs well, no one should even notice you're gone. Who's next in line for your slots?"

Sterling said, "Inga Von Beck."

Heather contributed "Mike Malloy."

"They're both more than capable. Pack your gear, cadets. Pre-flight is at 1300 with take-off immediately following. We'll see you in nine days."

They both stood, and with broad smiles, saluted and left the office smartly.


	8. Chapter 7

For The Children/17

"_You don't develop courage by being happy in your relationships everyday. You develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity."_

_Epicurus, Earth (Human)_

_**CHAPTER 7**_

FEDERATION SHUTTLECRAFT CONRAD, EN ROUTE TO VULCAN

MARCH, 2290

Heather yawned and looked over at Sterling. "They never mention that missions can be mind-numbingly boring."

He laughed, "Yeah, and with only two of us, it's watch-on-watch. That's getting a little old after two days. But hey, we're getting the job done, right? And it's a _real_ mission, not just another practice flight."

"Oh come on, we're safer in this placid little shuttlecraft flying in the middle of Federation space then we would be flying a dog-fight profile in the Training Range. Titan got pretty crazy."

"I'm fine with things not being crazy for once!" he grinned and gestured at the main panel. "Why look, not a single alarm or warning ligh..." As he waved his hand two lights started blinking.

"What the hell?" she asked with a giggle.

He swiveled his chair and began typing at the main computer interface. "Gotta be from that system up ahead..." he scanned the readouts. "Nothing there. Just a Class-L planet. Dunno why the...Wait a second. Check course, will you?"

She worked for a few moments. "Delta-V 3 degrees port. Something's not right."

"Systems check – I'm correcting."

"Working...Green board...Andy, watch your course, Delta-V 4 degrees sub-port."

"She's not responding. You sure we're getting thrust?"

"Yeah, fuel consumption, thrust indicator, inertial, everything says we're thrusting."

The little shuttle roared as Andy doubled his attempt to correct for the deviation.

Heather sang out, "Got it! Gravimetric anomaly, port side, low, coming fast, Andy break, break, break!" But a tubby shuttlecraft is not a nimble, over-powered fighter. "Andy! BRACE FOR IMPACT!" There was a loud bang and the little ship spun in circles and Andy struggled to bring her back under control.

"Fuck me!" he said, "I need thrusters, now!"

"Nothing there – port nacelle's off-line." A grating alarm sounded and she continued "Fire, port nacelle! Activating the fire bottle." and she yanked a handle on the overhead panel.

After a few seconds, Andy managed to get the shuttlecraft under control again, "Mayday, mayday mayday, shuttlecraft _Conrad_ is declaring an emergency."

Heather said, "Negative comms, Andy – whatever that was took everything on the hull off. We've lost main sensors, comms, and the gods only know how much of the port nacelle. Negative effect on the fire bottle – still getting fire warning."

"I'm losing it, Heather, I need you on yaw and roll, I got pitch and thrust."

"Wilco."

"We need to set down before we fall apart."

"There isn't any place to set down. That's Class-L, the atmosphere's barely breathable." As she said that, there was a high-pitched whistle and she called out, "Hull breach! Port side aft!"

"Jesus! What the hell hit us? Can you get to it?"

She looked at the status display now covered in red and yellow lights. "Negative – it's under the deck plating." Glancing back towards where the hole had to be, she shouted, "Shit! It's spread from the nacelle - Fire in the cabin!" She spat in frustration and turned back to the controls, watching the planet grow in the view ports.

"Upping the thrust. We're outta time, Heather. Barely breathable beats vacuum every time. Close the shutters, we're gonna have to do this on instruments, we got no shields."

"I'm getting shit for readings. Something's screwing up all the returns."

"Peachy. What else can go wrong?"

She laughed, "You asked – Primary inertial dampener failing."

"Fuck!" but despite the emergency, he grinned at her.

The shuttlecraft was screaming down through the planet's atmosphere, bucking wildly as the two pilots attempted to steer some sort of course despite her failing systems and the smoke beginning to fill the cabin.

Heather called out, "Primary's gone – secondary ID failing. If we lose that we've got about 30 seconds on the emergency ID and then we're smeared on the walls. Andy you gotta get us down."

"WHERE?! There's nothing there!"

The little ship continued to lose altitude "I got it – got a solid read 330 mark 350. Dammit!" she hissed as the ship barrel-rolled, both of them slamming around in their seats due to the failing inertial dampeners. "That was me, sorry!"

"Got it, got it yaw left, more, more...bring it back!"

"Secondary's gone – SHIT! Pitch up we're gonna.." there was another loud bang and the shuttle tumbled and ricocheted off a pile of rock, shedding chunks of hull and what was left of the port nacelle.

Andy opened his eyes, blinking to try to clear the spots from his vision. He was hanging from the straps in the right seat, so that meant the ship must have come to rest on her left side. There was the pinging sound of cooling metal, the stench of burning duranium and burning plastics. He looked down towards the left seat and saw that the impacts had crushed in the left side of the _Conrad_ by several inches. Heather was hanging limply, her head against the side of the hull and blood beginning to run down the side. The fire was spreading towards her and the smoke was making it hard to see.

He grabbed a hand-hold on what had been the door frame and punched the quick-release on his harness. Bracing on the seat, he pushed the button to open the door, but nothing happened. Shaking his head he popped the emergency panel and pulled the handle out, flinching as the door blew open. The extra air-flow caused the fire to intensify and rain began pouring in the opening. Feeling it tingle on his skin he said, "What the fuck? Acid rain?

"Christ, what else can..." he left the rest unsaid as he dropped down to the crushed hull. The fire had started to singe Heather's fur and it stank. He unstrapped her, easily lifting her 80 lbs, trying to ignore the growing fire curling up around his legs. He tried to lift her out of the door, but the angle was wrong and she was limp, dead weight. "Heather! Heather, you gotta wake up, I can't reach." His voice was going up in pitch as the pain in his legs increased. He stepped up on the broken seat, scrambling to get away from the heat. "Heather!" He tried again to get her out the door, managing to get her head out the opening. That finally got a groan.

"Dammit Heather! WAKE UP CADET! GET YOUR ASS OUT THAT DOOR! MOVE CADET!" He put her rear end on his head and tried to launch her out of the shuttlecraft and she weakly pulled at the door frame, managing to get half-way out and then falling the rest of the way to the ground with a thud. Andy wasted no time getting back up to his seat. He banged open a compartment and grabbed a survival pack as various pieces of the research equipment began to cook off with bangs and hisses.

Dropping to the ground next to her he pulled the pack on and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "We gotta get the hell away from here, this thing is gonna blow." Despite the burns to his legs, he started double-timing through the acid rain looking for some sort of shelter, coughing and trying to get enough air in his lungs from the crap this planet called atmosphere.

The sky overhead was a forbidding purplish with streaks of red occasionally illuminated with white flashes as lightning struck the ground or jumped from cloud to cloud. The wind whipped the rain nearly sideways and thunder rumbled as he ran, drowning out the sounds of his coughs. Deciding he was far enough from the wreck of the _Conrad,_ he slowed to a walk, trying to catch his breath. The oxygen level was obviously low and there were significant amounts of sulfur, ammonia and methane in the air; Not enough to be lethal, just enough to suck the energy out of you and make it stink. Running while carrying Heather's limp body and the heavy survival pack was a no-go. Wryly he thought that he would never complain about a PT run again.

He stopped and looked around. About 50 m to his left there was a large pile of rocks that looked promising and he walked towards it. Squinting, his eyes watering from the acidic rain and his skin feeling like it was covered in steel wool he tried to find some sort of shelter. A lightning bolt cracked over head and illuminated a dark space; If nothing else it would get them out of this damn rain. He walked in and said, "Thank GOD. It's about time we caught a break." It wasn't just a void under a few rocks it was an honest-to-god cave and big enough he could set up the shelter. Barely.

He set Heather down gently, taking a moment to smooth the fur on the side of her head, trailing his fingers down her neck and checking her pulse. It was strong and she wasn't bleeding too badly. Head wounds always looked horrible. Anyway, the shelter had a filter, she'd be able to breath better in there and then he could treat her injuries with the med-kit. There was a crashing, tearing sound, louder than the thunder and punctuated with several smaller bangs. The _Conrad_ had exploded. He wondered if the Emergency Locator Beacon had survived it. If it hadn't, they were pretty well screwed.

Coughing again, he stripped off the survival pack and began setting up the shelter that made up much of the weight. There was supposed to be one pack per person, but there hadn't been time enough to grab any others. He remembered how boring the survival classes had been at first. And then how nightmarish it had gotten when they moved from the classroom into the field. One cadet had died, several others had sworn that if they ever had to repeat that training, they'd quit first. That training paid off now though, he thought to himself as he quickly set up the shelter and made sure the cave wasn't in any danger of collapsing or dropping large heavy objects on them. It would be just their luck to find the damn planet was tectonically unstable as well.

He pulled Heather into the shelter and sealed the door. You could fit two people inside a survival shelter, but you had better be good friends. Taking the med-kit out of the pack, he began checking her for injuries. The scanner indicated a minor skull fracture, a few minor lacerations, lots of contusions, and a pair of broken ribs with some partial-thickness burns along her left arm and leg. He sprayed some clotting agent on the head wound and hesitated. There was an elastic bandage he could use for her ribs, but to do it right, he'd have to take her uniform jacket and shirt off.

This was a survival situation. She was injured. There were cuts on her torso as well. She needed aid. This wasn't sexual, this was different. He couldn't exactly take it off, he'd have to cut it off. He sighed, took out the trauma shears and started cutting. The heavy red fabric of the double-breasted jacket wasn't easy to cut, but it would come off without aggravating her injuries. When he had her upper body exposed, he used the clot spray on the cuts, trying to focus on the task at hand rather then her breasts. He'd fantasized about what they looked like often enough, but this was not how he'd imagined seeing them. Finally he began wrapping the bandage around her ribs, gently sliding his hands under her back when he had to pass the elastic from one side to the other. He snugged it tight and she gasped at the pressure, her eyes slowly opening.

He continued to work on her for the few minutes it took her to regain her bearings. Taking out the burn-spray He covered the burns on her arm with the analgesic new-skin and looked down at her legs. The uniform trousers had melted and were pressing into the wounds. They weren't bad enough to cut them off, so he shrugged and began undoing the fasteners. She had been watching him silently and finally spoke, her voice weak and quiet,

"I see how it is." She hissed as he bumped a burn, "I can't get you to share a bed with me, but as soon as you get me alone you tear my clothes off." she smiled weakly.

Blushing he pulled them down her legs which were shaped much like a cat's. It was harder than he thought and he fumbled several times as he tried like hell to not drag her panties off as well. "What the hell?" he thought to himself, "I did _not_ expect pale pink panties." For a moment he wondered how panties would work with her short tail. Then he swallowed in a throat that had gone dry and focused intensely on getting the trousers down without hitting the burns.

"You're hurt, Heather. It's OK though, it's not bad."

She didn't say anything as he finished stripping her pants off and she felt the cool, soothing spray cover the burns on her leg. Finishing his treatment, he sat back and looked for any other injuries to his patient. Unfortunately, what he saw was not an anonymous patient in the combat life-saver course, but a young, female, half-Dosadi that he was very much in love with laying almost naked in front of him. He swallowed again and took a deep breath.

Heather stayed silent. He was blushing and obviously struggling with something in his mind. Nudity was no big deal to Dosadi, but it mattered to Humans, a lot, for some reason. Maybe he thought she was ugly, or weird, or nasty or...

"I..I..I..I..." he stopped, closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "I..I..T..t...t..think." He gritted his teeth. A few moments of silence passed. "All fixed." he finally said quickly, and then opened his eyes.

"You're hurt too, Andy." She sat up slowly, her legs tucked half under herself, groaning at the aches and pains. It was quite cool in the shelter, but he was sweating. She reached over and took the scanner from his hand. She rested one hand on his thigh and moved the instrument over him, watching the readings. "There's a lot of burns on your calves and shins, Andy."

He nodded.

She looked him in the eye and reached for the fasteners on his trousers. She saw panic rise and he said, "No! I...I...I." he stopped and breathed again, "Can." She cocked her head to the side and nodded. Was he afraid of her? He didn't look like he thought she was nasty; why would he be afraid?

He quickly shucked his pants off, gritting his teeth as the fabric scratched across the blisters on his calves. Smiling at him, she tucked her finger under the collar of his top, "This too, fly-boy." He sighed and stripped it off. There were a number of abrasions and bruises from the shuttle's harness and she treated those first, working her way down. "You're going to have to lay down so I can get at the burns."

There wasn't a lot of room in the shelter, so he stretched himself out, trying to keep his lower legs off the floor. At least the boots had protected his feet. She trailed one finger down his upper leg as she sprayed the new-skin on the burns. There were shivers running up his back from the extra contact. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was panicking. Had she noticed the stutter? How could she have missed it! She hadn't said anything though. Had she noticed that there was absolutely nothing happening where it should be? God DAMN he hated himself right now. She was going to laugh, and call him gay. Everyone would know he was useless. He had to do something – get away, but there was no place to go.

Heather shifted around so she was sitting with her legs folded along his. She looked down at him and extended one claw a little bit and gently traced a line up from his navel to his chest. "Andy?"

"W..w..wh..wh..what?"

"Do you think I'm gross, or just a thing or..."

He interrupted, "NO!"

She put her palm flat on his chest and looked up at him, puzzlement all over her furry face. "Then what's wrong with me? Why don't you...I mean...I know I'm not human, but..."

He was struggling to speak. Finally through his worsening stutter he got out "Not you. Me."

She laid her much smaller torso on his and thought that the rock floor would be softer. She put her chin on her hand and asked, "What do you mean?"

His hands balled into fists, he fought with his stutter to try to explain, finally in his frustration he said "I'm so sorry. Stupid stutter. I'm so screwed."

Smiling, she said, "I don't care. I love your voice. You can take as long as you want to say whatever. That's why I like to sing with you so much. And you're not screwed. I'm not telling anyone." She laughed, "Why would I want to lose the best flying partner ever? And my best friend."

Still stuttering he asked, "You really don't mind?"

"Nope." She met his eyes and smiled.

It took a long time, Heather curled up on his chest, watching him with a slight smile, giving no sign that his stuttering bothered her in the slightest. He finally got the story out. "I've stuttered my whole life. My folks keep to themselves and I was home schooled until almost the end of Secondary School. I had almost completely stopped stuttering – It only hit me when I was really nervous or embarrassed. No one really knew I stuttered. I've always wanted to fly fighters and I knew I had to keep it hidden, Star Fleet would never let me fly if they knew.

"My Junior year, I fell in love with a girl, Kristie. Man, I thought she was just everything wonderful in the world. Beautiful, popular, smart – and she liked _me_! We fooled around a lot and well, we finally got to where we were going to have sex. I'd never done anything before, but she had – she used to tease me about being a virgin, but it was good-natured. Well I thought it was, anyway. She didn't even know I stuttered.

Well, we started...we started, you know. And. Nothing."

"Nothing?" she asked, "She changed her mind?"

"No. I didn't. I mean, I couldn't. It didn't work."

"Didn't work?"

He sighed, still working through his speech troubles. "I'm impotent."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I'm useless. Not even a man at all. Go ahead and laugh. She did."

"Why would I laugh? If she did, she's a bitch. She really laughed at you?" Heather started running her finger along his shoulder and collar bone, still resting her chin on her fist.

"Christ yes. She thought it was the funniest thing ever. Then I started stuttering really badly. And she just laughed more like it was the most hysterical thing ever. It just kept getting worse." He closed his eyes, his stutter worsening. "She said I was probably gay, and even if I was it wouldn't matter because I was a total loser. She like, imitated my stutter, just said some really horrible things. She got really mad and finally left."

"Wow."

"It got worse."

"How could it get any worse? That's horrible!"

"She told everyone I couldn't do it. I suppose I should be thankful she didn't mention the stuttering. I think she thought I was insulting her because I make things work with her."

"I think she's a bitch and I'm glad she was a bitch."

"Why are you glad?"

"It sucks she hurt you, but I'm glad you aren't with her. I'd rather you were with me."

"But Heather, I'm...I'm useless, you know?"

She stopped herself from laughing, "Useless? Andy, you're the best fighter pilot in the Federation. You're an awesome singer. You're my best friend. You're as far from useless as you can get."

"I meant when it comes to being a man."

"Andy, that's not what makes a man. That's just a thing you can do, it has nothing to do with who you are. That no more makes you a man than being able to...I dunno, do the splits or something would make you a man. Honor and courage and loyalty and love and faith are what makes a man.

"You walked into a fire to save me. Then you carried me I don't know how far and took care of my injuries and got me shelter. Andy, _that_ makes you a man. Whether you can do that one thing or not is less than nothing."

"Kristie sure thought it was a lot more than nothing."

"She doesn't count, doofus." She reached her free hand up and caressed his face. "I wouldn't care if you never could. Besides, how do you know you can't?"

"Huh? It didn't..."

For once she interrupted his stuttering. "Andy, you couldn't one time with one stupid bitch. Have you ever tried again?"

"No. Girls make me stutter when anything like that starts happening at all."

"Hmmm." She smiled a wicked little smile. "So who cares about stuttering?"

"Umm. Pretty much everyone. Especially Star Fleet?"

"I don't. Can I see?"

"You'll just laugh."

"No I won't, Andy. I really, honestly don't care whether anything like that happens or not. I care about you trusting me."

"Heather, I trust you with my life every single time we fly. I trust you with my future, I trust you with everything that matters to me."

She grinned, "Then trust me with this, all right?" She started kissing and nibbling her way down his chest, sliding her body down his, feeling his heartbeat quicken. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of his regulation Star Fleet boxers, she paused and looked at him. "Uniform right down to the undies, huh?"

He laughed, "Well at least mine aren't pink!"

She licked her lips, "I dunno, pink might look good on you..." She smoothly pulled his shorts off, carefully avoiding his burns as much as possible. Hmm. I know what else would look good on you." She slipped her panties off and he noticed that there was a small velcro tab that held the waistband over her short little tail.

"What?"

She grinned, showing her fangs, "Me." She laid on him and flattened herself on his chest, snuggling down onto him.

"Heather, I'm so sorry, I wish..."

Again she interrupted his stutter, "Hush. I told you I don't care. Do you have _any_ idea how long I've wanted to just be close to you like this?"

He could feel the warmth of her and he desperately wanted to make love with her. More than anything in the world he wanted to and the more desperately he wished, the more nothing happened.

Laying her cheek on his chest she started purring. "Tell me about what you were like before you came to the Academy. I want to hear how you learned how to fly and I want to learn about you." she paused and looked up at him, "I mean if you want to tell me. I..." she looked back down, "Andy, I really love you. I go nuts whenever you're around me, wanting to hold you, or touch you or. GODS, you have no idea how much I wanted to be like this with you. Just holding you and smelling you and touching you and...Do you like me?"

"Heather, more than anyone, ever. I like your family too. Well, your grandfather scares me."

She laughed again and laid her cheek back down on his chest. "Grandpa's a big softie."

"Yeah, right. He almost crushed my hand and pretty much let me know my body would never be found if there were " he slipped into a Yorkshire accent, "T'be any funny business under mah roof, lad!"

She giggled, "He did _not_!"

"Well not in so many words, but damn, he's huge!"

Snuggling into him again she said, "Please tell me about you, Andy."

And so he began to talk about himself. His xenophobic parents, their disgust at his joining Star Fleet and the growing estrangement between them. He talked about being home schooled and the heavy religious indoctrination they had attempted. He talked about finally going to a public school and learning to fly a plane. He told her about his friends and all the stories people accumulate growing up human.

She just listened, occasionally shifting her position on top of him, purring softly as he talked. While he was telling her about his first solo, one hand lightly stroking her back his other hand 'flying' she wiggled her hips a bit more and interrupted, him. "Andy?"

"Huh?"

"You're really a virgin?" One's sexual status was fairly insignificant to the Dosadi, but she knew it was a huge deal to Humans. The continuing double-standard for human males and females still confused her, but she knew that most human males saw their virginity as a stigma.

"Yeah, kinda pathetic huh? A 20 year old virgin."

She tilted her face up, watching his eyes with a smug expression. "Not for very much longer, I think." She decided her ribs didn't hurt _that _badly as they made love for the first time.

Afterwards, she asked him "Did you notice something?"

"Jesus, I noticed EVERYTHING!" he laughed.

"Maybe not everything." She smiled.

Not particularly caring, he caressed her, his eyes drinking in every inch of her. "What did I miss?"

She extended her claws slightly, gripping his chest, "Mmmmmmm. You haven't been stuttering for some time."

He stopped moving, his expression shocked. "Holy shit."

They made love again, in the thin filtered air of the survival shelter. Later, when they were laying together, she nuzzled her cheek onto his chest and whispered, "Naughty little rabbit, aren't you?"

He laughed weakly. "I'm fine with that." Sterling's brain was starting to work again. "Oh crap. Heather, um. You're on the shot, right?"

"No, why? Aren't you?"

"No. I never thought I'd need it."

She laughed, "We're probably the only two Cadets at the whole Academy who aren't."

"I'm so sorry, Heather."

She rolled onto her back next to him. "Why?"

"What if I got you pregnant?"

She licked her lips and gave him a very satisfied smile. "Mmmmm. So what if you did?"

He raised up on one elbow, "Heather! They'd kick us out! You wouldn't be able to fly pregnant!"

"We'd get suspended while I was pregnant, doofus. There are waivers for that. We'd have to repeat the year is all."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Andy, " she reached her hand up and stroked his face, " if I had to pick between having your kit or a career in Star Fleet, I'd take your kit any day."

His jaw sagged open. She was stretched out, looking up at him, and he thought he had never seen a woman so desirable in his life. And likely never would again. "You're serious?"

She stretched, an exotic, erotic action in a half-human/half-Dosadi, "Now's your chance, stud."

That's not an invitation most human males are able to resist, and Sterling was no different. He pounced, pinning her to the floor of the shelter and took her with a fierce passion.

Several hours later, sweat soaked, exhausted, and completely, sinfully satisfied he was laying on his back while she was cuddled next to him, her head on his shoulder, trying hard not to bang her broken ribs around any more. He lay there with a silly smile on his face, listening to the rain outside the cave and watching the wind make the shelter's sides rattle. Finally spent, he had a chance to think a bit more critically.

"Heather, what if I did get you pregnant? I mean seriously."

"I told you. I'm fine with it. I can repeat a year and I'm pretty sure that's all they'd do. Andy, it's not really something I ever thought about until just a little bit ago, but...well, I want to have your kit. I want to be your mate."

He stroked the fur on the back of her neck and thought. "How does that work? Humans just get married is all."

"Do you want to?"

"Which?"

"Get married."

He thought, as the silence stretched out the fear began to grow in her stomach. "Heather, I'm sorry."

Her heart sank.

"I've thought through every angle I can and well, I can't think of anything I'd like to do more."

She smacked him, "PIG!" and then bit him. He laughed and held her close.

"We're going to get in trouble, you know." he reminded her.

"So? We're usually in trouble." he gave her a gentle squeeze. "Andy, do you really, truly want to have a kit with me?"

"Yup."

"I've kinda been dishonest with you."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" He ruffled her fur.

"There's a reason I'm not on the shot."

He turned his head and looked her in the eyes, "Why's that?"

"Andy, I really am something made in a lab. None of us know if it's even possible for us to have kits. Or with what. Dr Mantoux – he's the one who made us – we're all different. He said the boys can mate with Dosadi girls and the girls with human boys, but..." she shrugged, "Rollin's the only one with a mate..."

He interrupted, "And now you."

She hugged him tight and continued, "Well, anyway, even if we can, Dosadi don't work like humans do. We aren't even fertile until we've had a mate for a while. Human girls start having fertility cycles when they hit puberty, we don't. Ours don't start until we've been exposed to the same pheromones – our mate's – for a while. My mom said it can make you crazy when one hits. Like you just can't help yourself, you kind of just attack your mate a lot."

He looked at her quizzically, "And this is a _bad_ thing?"

"Maybe not." She scratched his chest a little, "Anyway, there's no way you have to worry about getting me pregnant. Not for a while yet."

"Hmm. I guess we'll just have to keep trying. A lot." and he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

She laughed, snuggling into the pillow of his shoulder.

He resumed stroking her fur. "Besides, we may never get off this rock. There's no food out there, the _Conrad_ exploded and I have no idea if the ELB survived it. We can use the filter to turn the rain into something we can drink, but there's only about a day's rations for the two of us in that pack."

"They'll find us, Andy."

"I hope so, Heather, but the odds aren't good. We're not overdue for two more days. Even if they back-track why would they look here? We're a ways off our course, I had to max out the thrust to make it here before we broke up, and the planet screws up sensors, as we saw."

There was silence for a while. "If we die here Andy..." She looked up at him, "It was worth it."

"What?"

"I feel like a complete person, with a mate who loves me and who incidentally tried really hard to make me have his kit, a mate who loves the same things I do, who thinks the same thoughts that I do, who loves me for _me_. Someone who saved my life, even if only for a little while. I wouldn't trade a hundred years of never having had this for however long I'm going to have it. I've played at being mates a few times but it was never even close to right. Andy, you're right."

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Sterling came back into the shelter with the drinking bladder filled up again. Days ago he had turned his pants into shorts after they had shredded on some rocks and was back into his uniform top since the planet was only about 17oC. His stomach growled loudly. "Here we go – more delicious, filling water!"

"Mmm. My favorite. I'd cook it for you, but I think it's better raw." They had managed to salvage some of her uniform jacket so that it looked like a short-sleeved crop-top and they had been forced to turn her trousers into shorts as well.

"Not only a feast fit for a king, but we're dressed for dinner as well! Ah, the riches of our new kingdom!" He puffed his chest out.

"Well you have to admit, our uniforms are sexier than Star Fleet's..." she sagged a little, the humor losing its power to keep her spirits up. "I'm going to eat the pack. Andy, it's been a week. Where are they?"

"They're looking Heather, I know they are. I'll go back again and see if I can find the ELB where the _Conrad_ blew up. Maybe I missed it in all that wreckage."

"No, Andy, the rain's really starting to do a number on your skin. There's nothing there. Whatever hit us probably took that out anyway."

"C'mon Heather. We'll make it. Let's sing some more, one of those old songs of yours maybe?"

"Andy, they only look for so long, then they mark you as 'overdue – presumed lost' and send a letter to your parents. We're two Cadets and a shuttlecraft. That doesn't rate much of a search."

He knew how long they searched for missing ships. Space is vast and the odds of finding anything of a missing ship decreased radically with time. And he also knew that they might find some of the chunks of the _Conrad_ that had been blown off in the collision. With located wreckage, Star Fleet would end the search and they would become just one more vessel lost to the mysteries of interstellar space. Their friends would have a wake in their honor and get good and drunk, and continue on with their lives.

He guessed they probably found the wreckage 5 or 6 days ago. Which meant the search had long since been called off.

FEDERATION STARSHIP USS EXCELSIOR, ALPHA QUADRANT

APRIL, 2290

The navigator looked up, "Captain, I'm not sure if it's the sensors acting up again or if they're finally working right."

Captain Hikaru Sulu sighed, "Lieutenant, I know this is our shake-down cruise after the rebuild but the more we shake her, the more things seem to fall off. What's wrong with them this time?"

"Sir, I think it's real. I'm getting some signs of duranium in orbit around that planet at 122 Mark 095."

"A probe?"

"No sir, I think it's wreckage."

LT Girard, the science officer said, "Scanning, Captain. Gimme a second."

Sulu waited patiently, his fingers tapping on the arm of the command chair.

"Sir, it sure does look like wreckage of some sort of small craft."

"So what's missing out this way?" Sulu asked.

"Not really anything, sir." Girard answered. "Only thing that is missing that would've been anywhere near here is an Academy shuttlecraft that blew up more than a week ago, but that was quite a ways away."

"So what's the wreckage doing in orbit around that planet?"

The navigator said, "Maybe it fell into orbit from where it exploded?"

Thinking back to when the _Enterprise's_ shuttle _Galileo_ had ended up crashed on a desolate planet gave Sulu a cold shiver up his spine. "If it fell from that far out, it's not going to capture, it'll either slingshot around or burn up." He tapped his fingers again. "Helm, take us into orbit around that planet. Girard, what is it?"

"Sir, it is a Class-L planet, no life forms, cool surface temperature, 100% cloud cover, low atmospheric pressure with concentrations of toxic gasses including sulfur dioxide, nitrous oxide, ammonia, and methane, low oxygen levels and intense electrical storms."

"So...not terribly survivable then."

The Lieutenant shrugged. "I wouldn't bet on those odds sir. Maybe for a few days, if they had food and water."

"Well, let's take a look anyway. Be a good chance to shake out some of the rest of the science systems and we can do a scan of the surface while we're at it."

Ten minutes later, the _Excelsior_ was in orbit around the planet and had tractored several of the pieces of wreckage into their shuttle bay. Sulu was looking at them. "So what do we have?"

The Senior Chief in charge of the bay said, "Definitely hull pieces from an F-Class shuttlecraft, Cap'n. And over here's a piece of nacelle casing – still has some pieces of the drive attached. Crewman Ortiz is checking the serial numbers now."

"Chief! Got a hit – it's from the _Conrad_, listed as destroyed early last week, launched out of Star Fleet Academy headed for Vulcan."

"Thanks Senior Chief." Sulu turned over a piece of the wreckage. The orbital velocity had been low, definitely not what you would get if it had fallen from deep space. He turned and headed back to the bridge. Sitting back down in his command chair he asked, "So, what are our scans showing?"

"A lot of garbage, Captain." LT Girard supplied. "Something in the rocks is causing a lot of echoes and noise, but I'm getting some occasional hits for what looks like duranium in one small region."

"Can we beam down?"

"No way, sir. Lots of interference. A shuttle would be a lot safer, and I'd still take it slow and easy."

Sulu frowned and said "I'm going down. Assemble a landing party, include yourself. Filter masks and protective coveralls. Meet me back in the shuttle bay in five minutes." I should have just stayed there, he thought as he stood up.

The water was almost gone, but it really wasn't worth the effort to go and filter up more drinking water. She was a lot smaller than Sterling was, and had a lot less body fat and a faster metabolism. After ten days of no food, she was feeling very much like she wasn't going to make it much longer.

Sterling was stroking her ears, "Hey, Heather, c'mon, don't give up, OK? I didn't save you from a fire to have you die in my arms you know."

She laughed weakly. "There's nobody coming Andy. I'm really tired. I just...Would you do something for me?"

"What's that?"

"Can we make love one last time? I won't mind so much then."

"Try and stop me, but it won't be the last time, I promise."

"Liar." she smiled at him.

Ten minutes later they were still moving together when the seals on the survival shelter were pulled open and they looked up at Captain Sulu and the rescue party from the _USS Excelsior_.

Girard said, "Maybe we should leave and come back in again?"

Dr M'Baka finished his scans of the two starved Cadets and made several notes on his PADD. As the results were streaming across the diagnostic panels he did a double-take. "Cadet...Heather was it? May I ask your species? You seem somewhat unusual."

With nutrients filtering into her body she was already feeling much better. "I'm half-Dosadi, half-Human. There's only four of us."

"I'm waiting for your records to be transmitted from Star Fleet. They had, um, transferred them after you were declared lost."

"Did they send out notices to our families?"

"I'm afraid so. But." He coughed, "You may want to send out a different kind of notice, Cadet."

"Huh?"

"You're pregnant."

Her jaw fell open. "That's not possible."

"Um, I'm afraid it is, Cadet. Twins. The uh, computer has calculated the fertilization at eleven days ago."

She just stared at him as though he had two heads. From his bed, Sterling said, "Hell YES!"

The doctor smiled, "Ah, I was wondering how the news would be received. I'll have a prenatal counselor speak with you both. Um, your case is obviously unique, I do not wish to be offensive, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for a medical man. I would very much like to be kept in the loop throughout the process."

She lay back. "You're not kidding? I'm really pregnant?"

"Ah, yes, Cadet. Why would I joke about that?" He smiled at Sterling, "From what I've heard from the landing party it shouldn't be _that_ much of a surprise..."

17/17


	9. Chapter 8

_**CHAPTER 8**_

"_ta'mey Dun, bommey Dun." (Great deeds, great songs)_

_- Klingon Proverb_

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

APRIL, 2290

The _Maxwell_, a shuttlecraft from the _USS Excelsior_, set down gently on the landing pad outside the main hangars for the Academy. Sterling and Heather, still recovering from their ordeal, had been resting rather than paying attention to the flight. Hearing the gentle 'clunk' of the skids touching down, they both sat up.

Heather looked over at Sterling – her mate! She thought and smiled.

Smiling back, "I'm not sure I'd smile too much – we have a whole lot of trouble ahead of us between losing the _Conrad_, the research equipment, you being pregnant and who knows what else they're going to throw at us. Plus we need to change all our records back from 'dead' to 'alive'. They've probably re-issued all our gear, you know. And we need to get more of a message out to our families than what we sent on the _Excelsior._ Thank God for Captain Sulu."

"It doesn't really matter. We'll get through it." She reached her hand over to his. The door cycled open, the bright sunshine splashing into the cabin and she said, "Time to go meet our doom." She laughed.

They didn't get far.

As they stepped through the open port, two Starfleet Security officers were waiting for them. "Cadets Sterling and Heather? Come with us, please. You're wanted for questioning concerning the loss of the shuttlecraft _Conrad_."

Sighing, Sterling said, "That didn't take long." and they turned to follow the officer into the hangar, the other falling in behind them. "Hey, guys? We getting on another shuttle? The brig's the other way."

"I'm sure I don't know, Cadet. Please come quietly." He rested his hand on the butt of his phaser as he walked along, keeping a wary eye on Sterling. He lead them into the dark hangar, Sterling trying to get his eyes to adjust as the door closed behind them leaving them in pitch blackness. After the bright sunshine washing the field, he couldn't see anything. He waited for the lights to come on, and nothing happened.

"Guys? I can't see, I'm not trying to be difficult but I have no idea where to go." There was only silence. "Guys?" He strained to see in the pitch blackness of the hangar. Heather took his hand again.

There was a loud 'chunk' sound as the main breaker tripped on and the hangar lights blazed overhead. They both squinted in the sudden brightness and they heard "ATTENTION ON DECK!", their spines automatically straightening. "UNDEAD ARRIVING!" and they saw their classmates in formation in the hangar in front of them, the two security men grinning broadly. A bosun's pipe sounded and the formation dissolved in cheers as their friends swarmed over to them.

It was impossible to sort out the confused babel of simultaneous questions "What happened? Jesus, you lost weight. Where did you crash? How did you survive? Is she really pregnant? Only Sterling could crash land on a desert planet and come back with a pregnant girlfriend. How did they find you? Damn it's good to see you! Hey Romeo! Are the rumors about how they found you true? I'm so glad to see you again."

Finally they were dragged over to a couple of the maintenance benches where there was an array of colorful adult beverages set out and Sterling asked, "A party?"

Chief Petty Officer Brown said, "An un-wake!" and laughed, "We had a hell of a wake for you two, so now we have to undo that. It would be bad luck not to!"

Heather helped herself to a beer – one of her favorite drinks – and asked, "Did they pack up our rooms?"

Paavo answered, "Yeah, it's OK though – we didn't let them do it, we took care of it. Nothing got fucked up. A lot of it got shipped back to your families though."

"What about our gear?"

Inga shook her head, "It all went back to Central Issue."

"Oh." She tried not to look too disappointed.

Brown said, "Well..." and she looked at him. "Not quite all of it."

She cocked her head at him, feeling hopeful.

"Those helmets are unique. Barton felt that they couldn't just ruin works of art so um...Well, they're in the tool room for, ah...Service."

She hugged him, holding him tightly but saying nothing. Several of the maintainers laughed or wolf-whistled while he hugged her back. After a moment he said, "Jesus, Heather. You're skin and bones."

She kissed his cheek, "Yeah, I lost almost 20 pounds, that's like a quarter of my body weight."

"Might not want to drink too much then, ma'am."

"Well, I'm only gonna have one for um, other reasons."

Barton chimed in, "No way! It's _true?!_"

Sterling blushed crimson, and laughter spread across the room when Heather said, "Well it wasn't _my_ fault."

Brown squeezed her again and said, "You two are in such deep shit it is not even funny. But you know what? You're not dead, so deep shit is pretty relative." He reached over and grabbed Sterling's hand, "Congrats, sir. You're gonna be a legend." Letting his hand go, he walked over to get a drink, shaking his head and mumbling to himself, "Survives a crash landing. Gets the girl. Gets the girl pregnant. Gets rescued. No one is that lucky." And he laughed again.

Leaning on the end of the table, Captain Spruance watched the pair of them work through their classmates' hugs, handshakes, back-slaps, and jokes. Standing next to him, Commander Ih-Tedda said, "Sir, it's going to take forever to clean this mess up."

"Yup. We'll tell them about the inquest later. Let them have some fun for a bit. Have you had a chance to look at the flight data from the _Conrad_ yet?"

"No. Captain Sulu sealed it as soon as it was brought on board, all very regulation."

"What do you think happened?"

"I don't know. That was a milk-run. I'd let my grandfather fly that route and he's never piloted anything more than his horse." she said sourly.

"Think they were hot-dogging?" he cocked an eye at her.

She frowned. "I really don't want to think that. They've got good sense."

"Except when they're flying together." Spruance pointed out.

"Yeah, but they were in the _same _bird this time. I just can't come up with anything else though."

They were silent for a bit. "And a pregnant cadet. Did you read Sulu's report on the rescue? Jesus, is there anything they didn't screw up on this mission?" he shook his head.

"Well, they didn't die..."

He sighed again. "Do you get the feeling there's something special about those two? Some reason to write _another_ waiver and keep them here and keep them flying? Assuming there's a real reason the _Conrad_ augured in."

She didn't say anything for a while. "Sir, I'm not much for heebie-jeebies and all that but yeah, I do. I told you months ago these two weren't normal. Individually, they're scary-good. Together...I don't know. It's strange. If it were up to me? I'd keep her flying and make her give birth in the damn cockpit.

"They don't just fly well, they _teach_ well. They have a knack for motivating people to do way more then they're expected to – and like it. But I'd PT him until his legs fall off for being stupid and knocking her up."

He chuckled, "I'll take it under advisement. I just have this feeling about those two. Like when you're playing poker and you just know the next card's gonna fill your straight."

Admiral Papadakis gaveled the court back to order. "Cadets Sterling and Heather." They both stood at attention along with their JAG attorney. "Do you have anything further you would like to add to the official record regarding this incident?"

They answered in unison, "No, sir!"

"Very well. It is the finding of this court that shuttlecraft _Conrad_ encountered a quantum singularity while en route to Vulcan. When the singularity's path intersected the _Conrad's_ port nacelle and hull it caused massive damage to systems and hull integrity, causing the craft to become unstable and uncontrollable.

"With the sensor equipment available to him, Cadet Sterling could not have detected the singularity, nor avoided it with the power available in an F-Class shuttlecraft and after the collision could not be expected to maintain control. The fact that Cadets Sterling and Heather were able to maintain some degree of control and affect a survivable landing speaks to their skill and the level of instruction that they have been afforded.

"Further, we find that Cadet Sterling's actions after the crash were exemplary and in the highest traditions of Starfleet, braving fire and toxic atmosphere to rescue his co-pilot. In light of these actions we award you the Starfleet Medal of Valor and you are both hereby cleared of any fault or blame in the loss of the _Conrad _and are restored to flight status.

"Moving to the charges of dereliction of duty, fraternization and behavior unbecoming an officer, we find that the facts support the assertion of the prosecution in all three specifications." He looked up at the two of them, "However, we also find that there were highly unusual and extenuating circumstances in this instance. A letter of reprimand will be inserted in both of your personnel files. Cadet Heather, your flight status shall be determined by your Senior Instructor, your Company Commander, and the Chief Medical Officer."

He gaveled again, "This court is adjourned." Keeping their military bearing, they refrained from hugging each other and settled for handshakes between each other and their attorney.

FT WILLIAM, SCOTLAND, EARTH

JUNE, 2290

The mag-lev train rumbled away into the distance as Sterling and Heather walked into the Ft. William train station. She was biting her lip, "Andy...I'm so nervous I feel like I'm going to throw up."

He answered, "Yeah, I am too. It'll be OK though, Heather. I'm their son, what are they going to do, slam the door in my face? They'll be upset at first, but they'll get over it. We just stick with the plan and it should be fine." He glanced at the scudding grey clouds covering the morning sky that were so typical of Scottish weather.

"You promise you're not ashamed of how I look?"

"Jesus, no, Heather. I love how you look. I just want to give them a chance to get used to you, to get to know you, before we spring too many surprises on them."

"Well, the dress will cover my legs and the hat will hide my ears, but...Andy, I'm furry and there's no hiding my face."

"I know, it sucks that they're so closed-minded; we shouldn't have to do this, it's _stupid_. I think they'll just be glad that I'm not dead! And we've got all week to bring them around." he laughed, "Besides, they'd probably be more upset if you were French..."

A short while later, after walking up a hilly road and down a side-street, they turned into the walk of a small stone cottage. Before they even got to the porch, the door opened and Andy's parents stepped out.

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!" he smiled and walked faster, though Heather lagged behind. As he stepped up to the porch, he paused; there was no welcome in their faces.

His mother's face was full of suspicion and his father's wore a scowl. He spoke, "Aye. An wha's that wi' ye?"

Shocked, Andy stuttered briefly, "T..This is Heather. My fiance'."

Heather curtsied deeply and started to say in heavily accented English, "I'm very pleased to..."

But Andy's father interrupted, "D'ye think we're dobbers then?"

She slowly stood back up again, her eyes wide.

"No! Dad, I wanted you to..."

"Ye put a dress on a beast an think we're jus' tha' blind, aye?"

"She's _NOT_ a..." Heather wanted to turn and run, but stayed frozen in place. The first drops of rain began to fall, splashing on the brim of her hat.

"Tis surely nae human, tha's a beast. This is wha' we warn'd would happen' if ye went off to tha' pit o' sin and godlessness." his mother said.

"Mother! Starfleet Academy is a _school_ not a church, it's not supposed to be all about God!"

"Tha's wha' I said. An ye said fiance'? Ha ye been layin wi' a beast in violation o' Leviticus? Ha' ye forgotten all yer Bible? Ha' ye turned so far from God?"

Angry he said, "She's pregnant, yes, you're going to be grandparents so you might want to get used to the idea."

His mother closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. His father shook his head and said, "I'll nae condone such a filthy sin." The rain was starting to come down harder now, the drops making a pattering sound on their heads and shoulders. Heather hadn't moved, wondering how this could get any worse.

"Aren't you even glad I'm not dead? Not even that much of a welcome home?"

His mother turned her back and went inside. His father shook his head again and said, "Nae. T'wer better ye had died before fallin' so far into sin. God has some plan for ye, but it is nae here." he turned on his heel, walked through the door and closed it firmly.

Andy stood, one foot on the porch steps, the rain splattering down on him. Heather didn't say anything – what could she say? For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Finally, the absurdity of the entire situation boiled over in Andy and he laughed. Shouting at the house he yelled, "At least she's not _FRENCH!_" He turned away from the building and took his mate by the arm. "Let's go find someplace with some people in it, OK? The God Squad can stay behind."

They walked back to the center of Ft. William, Andy whistling as he walked, cradling Heather's arm in the crook of his elbow, his other arm swinging free while the rain came down, soaking them both. After a while she said, "Andy, I'm so sorry, I didn't know what to do!"

"Why are _you _sorry, Heather? They're the sorry ones. I actually feel better now than I have in years."

"But...your parents...They..."

"So what? We've been moving apart for years. I really have nothing in common with them any more, or their tiny, closed-minded world. I don't _want _anything in common with them. Religious freaks."

"Didn't you say they were in Grammie Heather's church? They sure don't sound like it!"

He snorted, "That's just the building they go into to pray. They've always thought the Church was too loose. They figure if it's not in the Bible, it's crap and if it's in the Bible, it's to be obeyed without question. Idiots."

She squeezed his arm, saying nothing.

"So, where do you want to go? We could find a bed and breakfast, or a hotel, or anything you'd like!"

She thought for a moment, "We could go to Grammie Heather's? It's not very far by train."

He laughed, "Great idea! I think there's even one more south-bound today. With any luck we can get there before dinner time." He paused, "Um, is your grandfather going to kill me? I'm pretty sure getting you pregnant will be considered 'funny business'"

She giggled and said, "Yeah, but it wasn't under his roof, so you're OK."

Later that evening, the two of them walked from the Leyburn transport station to the Wilkes' farm. The rain had been left behind, but tattered clouds still patterned the darkening sky while the setting sun threw liquid bronze across the western horizon. Even from a distance, Sterling could see the welcoming glow from the front windows of the big house. "You sure we shouldn't have called first?" he asked.

Heather smiled, "I'm sure. Grammie Heather _loves_ surprises. And they like you. A lot."

Remembering her grandfather's handshake he said, "I hope so..." But he found himself anticipating seeing her family again with pleasure, not trepidation. They made their way up the big porch and Heather knocked on the door.

When it opened, she curtsied again and said, "Good evening, ma'am. Would you have room for two weary travelers?"

Heather Wilkes cried out, "Oh, Heather!" Throwing her arms around her littlest grandchild she said, "Tis like yer returned t'us from t'dead! We all prayed so hard for ye both, we just knew t'Lord would nae take ye from us so soon!" She reached her arm out and gathered Sterling into the hug. "Andy, yer friends sen' us yer medal, all abou' how ye saved her!"

Embarrassed and marveling at the contrast between the two greetings, he gently hugged her back, "I couldn't live without her, Mrs. Wilkes. And it was a team effort."

"Don' be daft. Ye pulled her ou' o' fire." She patted his chest. "Come in t'supper." She stepped back and looked at Heather, "An ye look so bonny in tha' dress an ha'." She ushered them both inside calling out "Look who's here!"

Within minutes, Sterling found himself sitting at the big dining room table, an oversized fluffy towel around his shoulders, his boots drying in the corner, and a glass of single-malt scotch in his hand. Settling into the wooden chair he sighed happily. He was startled when Mr. Wilkes came in behind him and he felt a massive hand grip his shoulder. The big man walked around him, maintaining his hold on the younger man and Heather's brother walked past and sat down opposite him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he looked up at the towering Yorkshireman who only said, "Well done, lad." And nodded. There was the briefest of pauses, the big man shook his shoulder slightly and he just said again, "Well done. Aye." before moving past and into the kitchen.

Rollin smiled and said, "From him, that's something amazing, by the way. Especially to someone who's new to the family." His mate Nina came in, rubbed her cheek along his and said, "Andy. The gods alone know how you saved her, but we're all so thankful."

"Uh, it was really a team effort to survive."

She twitched her whiskers, "We read the citation, Andy. And the transcripts from the inquest. We know what was a team effort and what was above and beyond. If we were on Dosad, I'd get your eye tattooed."

He noticed she had a simple single-strand tattoo around the outside of her left eye. "What for?"

Rollin answered in his odd Dosadi/Yorkshire accent, "Not too up on Dosadi culture yet, are ye?" he grinned, "That'll change. When someone does something worthy of high honor, his mates all agree an' they add a little bi' to the design for each time."

He blushed and tried to cover it by taking a drink of his scotch.

Heather came in, wrapped in a big fluffy pink bathrobe. He had a sudden flash of memory of her in something else pink and blushed more. Nina's nose twitched and she grinned at him. There was no way she could tell that...was there?

Rollin and Nina started helping Mrs. Wilkes with bringing the supper to the table and when Andy stood up he was told, rather firmly, to sit right back down again. He shook his head, marveling again at the contrast between this family and his parents.

It was while they were nibbling at their desserts that Heather asked him, "So, when do you want to tell everyone?"

"Um." he took a nervous glance at Mr. Wilkes at the head of the table.

Rollin said, "I know that look, Heather. Cough it up!"

She looked at Andy and decided to save him from himself. "We're mates!"

Rollin, thrilled for his sister said, "Wonderful!",

Nina chimed in with, "That is great news!",

Mrs. Wilkes clapped and said, "Praise God!"

Mr. Wilkes glowered at Sterling and said, "Aye."

Heather glowed. "There's more." and Andy considered trying to get a running head start. Everyone looked at her expectantly. "We're having twins."

That brought about quite a bit more noise from Rollin, Nina, and Mrs. Wilkes. Mr. Wilkes on the other hand was just staring at Sterling.

Mrs. Wilkes asked, "Ha' ye already been married then? Di' we miss it?"

Andy decided to face his fate like a man, "No, ma'am. I proposed to her when we were marooned, but we haven't had a chance to yet."

She nodded, "Tha's nowt. I'll call t'vicar in t'mornin' then. He's married her mother an father, an' her brother an' Nina, he'll do t'job for ye two as well."

"Well, " he said, "That might be a bit fa..." he noticed Mr. Wilkes studying him intently. Like a lion studies its dinner. "um, that would be wonderful, Mrs. Wilkes!"

Two days later, much as Heather's father had, he found himself in his dress uniform standing in front of a church full of locals who had become rather accustomed to the bizarre parade of marriages in Clan Wilkes. His bride was wearing the same borrowed dress her mother and sister-in-law had worn, suitably altered for her shorter frame. After the ceremony, as they circulated through the parishioners, Heather squealed like a little girl and ran up and hugged two of the older guests. "Mr. Walker! Mr. Thompson! I so wanted you to be here!"

Thompson said, "Aye, I would nae miss i'. One can nae see too many ca's ge' married." and he ruffled her fur the wrong way.

She turned to Walker and said, sotto voce, "And I'm still not a sheep!"

He laughed at the old joke and said, "Nae, yer a raht naughty lass tho." leaving Sterling completely confused.

When they returned to the Wilkes' home and everyone had changed out of their wedding finery, Rollin said, "I need to do some work in t'barn. If ye come along, I'll fill you in a bit on yer new family." and he laughed. Wilkes smiled at the thought and said,

"Sure! I'd love that."

Heather said, "Nina, can we go for a walk?"

"Of course." She stood with all the fluid grace of her species and they headed out to walk along the lane between two of the fields. They walked in silence for a while, listening to the birds and watching rabbits nibbling at the greenery. "What's on your mind, Heather?" she said, glad of the chance to speak Dosadi again.

She bit her lip. "I'm nervous, Nina. I'm hoping you can help me."

"What about?" she sniffed the breeze, smelling all the myriad scents of rich Yorkshire fields and pastures.

"Does it ever bother you that Rollin's not really Dosadi?"

She laughed, "He's not? I thought he was. Of course he's a lot Yorkshire now too."

"You know what I mean, he's part human."

"Heather, of all four of you, you're the one I least expected to struggle with that foolishness. And yet you're the one that has the biggest problem with it."

Her ears drooped, "I just wonder if deep down it matters. His parents...Oh Nina, it was so awful." and she told the story about the disastrous visit to Ft. William.

"Would it matter to you if Andy lost his legs in a crash?"

"What? Of course not!"

"So whatever shape his body is doesn't matter?"

"Of course not! Why would...Oh. Smarty."

Nina laughed, "Heather, one of these days you're going to figure out that you're in love with a mind and a soul and a heart, and so is he. Yes there are still stupid people out there from every species who care about the shell we wear. There will always be lots of them. So what? Avoid them for the poor, pitiable fools that they are." They walked along a little more. "I don't know where all this lack of self-image came from in you. I'm only a couple of years older than you, but I remember watching you grow up when Rollin and I first started being friends. You were always so out-going and adventurous, and happy. You impressed me, a lot.

"I guess we all have things inside us that are different than what we show the world. Heather, I caught his scent when you walked in the dining room tonight. He doesn't see a shape. He sees his mate. Trust him to love you."

Heather rubbed her shoulder against Nina's, "Thank you, Nina."

"You're welcome. I'm thinking we're going to be having a kit soon too."

"Really?"

"Yes. Although I feel bad for Rollin." she laughed wickedly. "Not that bad though. He seems to enjoy it."

Heather giggled and they held hands as they walked along in silence.

TAJOR WORK CAMP, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

JUNE, 2290

Fallon trudged through the rain and the mud to the door of the Legate's office. She moved automatically, removing her muddy shoes outside and opening the heavy door. She walked in, head down, and sat at the small desk he had ordered built for her. As she did every day, she began sorting and filing the various data rods, paperwork, and messages that were piled there.

Kai watched her work. The little girl fascinated him. She was annoyingly pure. He had only gotten her to 'cheat' with her rations that one time. Even punishing her with a beating hadn't convinced her to eat anything more than a small portion with him again. Much of the spark that he so enjoyed about her seemed to have left with her mother. The little creatures certainly seemed to bond tightly. But he thought he had a way to both bring that spark back and open her eyes to the realities of life, not this ridiculous 'philosophy' the little cows followed. Their current status was all the proof that was needed as to how useless and wrong it truly was.

"Fallon." he spoke softly.

She turned in her little chair, head down, hands in her lap. "Yes?"

"Look at me, Fallon."

She looked up, the large, black eyes meeting his.

"You hate me don't you."

"Yes." But there was no heat in the statement, none of that spark he sought.

"You would like me to leave, wouldn't you? Take my troops and leave forever?"

Just for a moment, there was a flicker of interest. Something beyond the mechanical actions of the last three months. "Yes."

"Would you kill me if you could?"

She was used to this question. He asked it often. "I don't know. Sometimes I want to."

"Well! And after all the extra food I give you." he smiled. "I told you once I might just see if you would, Fallon, do you remember?"

"Yes."

He opened one of his desk drawers and drew out a phaser. He placed it flat on his desk and slid it towards the little girl. "Now is your chance, Fallon."

Her eyes flicked down to the weapon. She didn't know very much about them, but she knew how to make it shoot. She'd seen the Cardassians do that often enough. You picked it up, you pointed the one end at the person and you squeezed your fist and they died. She looked back at him. He would probably beat her if she reached for it.

"Well, Fallon? Will you kill me now?"

She gauged the distance between him and the weapon. If she could reach it, she could shoot him. She could kill the monster.

"Am I too close? Here." He slid his chair back as far as it would go and crossed his legs. "I am ready, Fallon. Kill me and set your people free."

She swallowed. She could reach it. All she had to do was pick it up and point it. She leaned towards it, the heavy pistol shape laying on the desk, seeming to throb the longer she looked.

"Fallon? This is your chance. Kill me and without their leader, all the troops will have to go home. You could be a hero. You could save them, Fallon. Save them all." He watched her struggle with the wish to be free of him, to be a hero and against that wish the gentle teachings of her people. Stupid cows. She hated him – she had to. Why didn't she pick it up? "Kill me, Fallon and make my little girl an orphan just like you."

She had begun to reach for the phaser, her hand raising a millimeter from her leg and she set it back down again without him noticing. Just like him. She would become just like him. Killing because it was easy, because it would give her want she wanted, causing loss and suffering to some other little girl. She looked back up from the phaser to Kai and said firmly, "No."

He sighed, disgustedly. He slid his chair forward again and picked the phaser up. "Fallon, you are a monster. You had the chance to save your people and you have abandoned them." He put the empty weapon back in the drawer. Shaking his head he said, "Leave me now. There will be no extra rations for you today, I am very disappointed." He turned his back on her and began working on a console.

She stood up and for the first time in months, she smiled. HE was the monster. And she had hurt him by _not_ being a monster just like him. She was better than him. She left the office and walked back to the barracks. She would beat him. Somehow. But not his way.

FEDERATION FRIGATE USS HONSHU, UNDER WAY, ALPHA QUADRANT

JUNE, 2290

Dejan Lilac finished a presentation that had become more polished in the last three months. "You can see they are sentient. You know what is being done to them. You must act."

Commander Moshe Yaalon looked at his ship's doctor. The frigate was too small to have a chief medical officer. The man nodded at the unspoken question. That only made his answer more difficult. "I have to say, I never expected to see an Orion slaver try to rescue slaves..."

The Free Trader gritted his teeth. Humans rarely understood the intricacies of the Orion slave trade – Orion women, while technically slaves ended up through their powerful pheromones, becoming the master. Non-Orion races were sometimes bought and sold, but there were rules and standards that were maintained. He asked, "Commander, are you familiar with the religious hymn Amazing Grace from your world's history?"

"The name sounds like something I've heard, but I cannot say that I know it." Yaalon admitted.

The song tells a story of forgiveness and redemption. It was written by one of your slavers centuries ago. He was in the middle of a trip back with a hold full of slaves when he decided that what he was doing was wrong. He turned around and released his cargo back upon their home shores and wrote the hymn based upon that experience. He became an activist against slavery."

"So you're going to give up being a slaver?"

"It was never my main cargo and you do not understand its function in our society. I am not here to argue _my_ actions. I am here to stop an atrocity on a planetary scale. To give you the chance to act – to redeem yourselves from your inaction. The Federation claims to care about innocents, claims to care about right and wrong, claims to defend those who are weak. There has never been a more clear case for action!"

"Lilac, that planet is inside Cardassian space. I cannot just invade another sovereign state and do as I please. That would result in a massive war. We don't even really have formal relations with the Cardassian Union yet – We're both still sizing the other up, trying to figure out where we're going to go. Besides, this is a frigate. I don't exactly have a lot of space even if I were to undertake a rescue mission. I could save what, 100? 200? And then the resulting war would kill tens of thousands if not billions."

Disgusted and frustrated he said, "So you too, will do nothing."

"Not nothing." Yaalon held his hands up. "I'll file a report with Starfleet Command and let them know what's going on. They may be able to..."

"File a report!" Lilac sneered. "I'm sick of reports being filed and requests for information and strongly worded letters!"

"Lilac, you have no proof. Just a single...person and your story."

Dejan slammed his hand down flat on the table, "Proof? Fine! I will get you proof! THEN you will act?"

"I can't promise anything but I'll..."

He stood up, "Proof first. I will show you. Then you will see what I have seen and you will act. Only a monster would ignore these peoples' suffering." He left, Fallon's mother hurrying along behind him.

When they returned to Lilac's freighter he asked her, "You are the tamest slave I've ever had to deal with. Why have you never complained, or struggled, or attempted to escape or shown any sign that this is not to your liking?"

She smiled, holding her hands together. "Because you are a good man. Because you are trying to help us. Because even as your slave, I am much better off than I was under the Cardassians."

He grunted. "We return to Orias III soon. I will get him his proof. We have sensors. We have recorders. We will get it for them and they will act. Somewhere there will be a man with the strength and the will to do what is right."


	10. Chapter 9

_**CHAPTER 9**_

"nIteb Qob qaD jup 'e' chaw'be' SuvwI'." (A warrior does not let a friend face danger alone)

- Klingon Proverb

STARFLEET ACADEMY FLIGHT RANGE, TITAN, SOL SYSTEM

OCTOBER, 2290

Heather squirmed uncomfortably in the Viper's seat. She was monitoring several of her pilots as they flew 'attack' profiles on simulated targets, her bird high above the dirty yellow of Titan. She thumbed the comm button again, "Bravo two-two, tighten it up."

There was silence. She thumbed the button again and still nothing. On her third attempt she was rewarded with "Bravo two-two, wilco." and she watched the pilot move closer to Paavo's right-rear quarter. She thought to herself that whoever had designed the Viper hadn't really planned on having a seven months pregnant half-Dosadi pilot.

The doctor's best guess was that her pregnancy would run eight to nine months – Dosadi typically gestated for 36 weeks, a month shorter than humans' usual 40 weeks. So they had decided that today was to be her last flight until delivery; which couldn't come soon enough as far as she was concerned. They had allowed her to continue to fly training flights with no maneuvering beyond gentle turns.

The next pair of Vipers rolled out of formation and began their attack run. She thumbed the comm button, "Bravo two-four, not so hot – you'll overshoot. Give the sensors time to track."

There was only silence. She tried again. And again. The two ships below her finished their attack run without scoring any hits and she told the Viper's computer to run a diagnostic on the comm system. "Communications are functioning normally."

Ignoring the malfunctioning button she ordered the computer, "Computer, contact Range Control, Bravo Lead requesting return vector, comm system malfunction." There was a pause of a few moments and a chirping sound.

"Comm system failure."

"You don't say?"

"Please restate the question."

"Piece of shit. Terminate..." she felt a sudden cramp in her belly that built like a ripple into a wave of pressure across her abdomen, "Oh shit."

"Please state last repeat."

Ignoring her flight computer, she began following the Comm-Out procedure and turned her Viper back towards Mimas.

There was another rippling cramp across her belly and she grunted, trying to get the thumb button to do something. Her sensors showed three squadrons of Vipers climbing out from Titan's upper atmosphere as she moved out of orbit. She smiled. The squadron leaders were paying attention at least. It was a solid two hour flight to Mimas; what a waste of a day's flying! They'd have to run the same damn drill tomorrow once they got the comm system and the computer fixed.

"Ow, shit!" she yelled a few minutes later when her stomach cramped again. The computer said,

"Please restate last demande por favor."

"What?"

"Vær så venlig bekräftigen..." followed by a hiccuping sound.

"Computer, Perform level-3 self-diagnostic."

There was a chirp and Heather's latest ancient song-find began blasting out of the cockpit speakers - "The Season's Upon Us" by the Dropkick Murphys, the bouncy Gaelic tune totally out of synch with the seriousness of her situation. She had intended it as a funny Christmas present for Sterling.

2_The season's upon us, it's that time of year  
Brandy and eggnog, there's plenty of cheer  
There's lights on the trees and there's wreaths to be hung  
There's mischief and mayhem and songs to be sung_

"What the HELL? Computer disengage!" She began trying to get the malfunctioning computer to shut down; It was ignoring her every effort. "Fucking piece of shit!" she yelled at it.

_There's bells and there's holly, the kids are gung-ho  
True loves finds a kiss beneath fresh mistletoe  
Some families are messed up while others are fine  
If you think yours is crazy, well you should see mine_

She looked out the cockpit when Mike Malloy's Viper slid close aboard her starboard side, his helmeted and masked face looking over at her. Barton had painted his helmet with the scaly red wings of a dragon, and the enhanced sensors on her faceplate allowed her to just make out the detail. She pointed at her ear and made a chopping motion as another cramp made her double over against the straps.__

My sisters are whack-jobs, I wish I had none  
Their husbands are losers and so are their sons  
My nephew's a horrible wise little twit  
He once gave me a nice gift wrapped box full of shit

Catching her breath again she laughed at the absurdity of the predicament she found herself in. She tried to get the computer to respond to voice, keyboard, or even circuit breaker to no avail. There were only so many breakers she could pop.__

He likes to pelt carolers with icy snowballs  
I'd like to take him out back and deck more than the halls  
With family like this I would have to confess  
I'd be better off lonely, distraught and depressed

She doubled over again, banging herself against the harness and sucked air through the mask covering the lower half of her face. "Gods!" She finally gasped out. She was suddenly slammed back into the seat again when the engines surged beyond what the inertial dampeners could handle. By now both Malloy and Von Beck had come up on either wing and were watching her struggles in the cockpit.

_The season's upon us, it's that time of year  
Brandy and eggnog, there's plenty of cheer  
There's lights on the trees and there's wreaths to be hung  
There's mischief and mayhem and songs to be sung  
They call this Christmas where I'm from_

"Oh no, no. No fucking way. This is not happening to me. I am _not_ giving birth in a fighter." The engines had started surging randomly, going from almost nothing, to the limits of the ID system. She was wondering when they'd exceed them again; She had little faith that the computer recognized those limits any more. It was pretty much a crap shoot as to when she would be smeared against the back of her seat. She reached down past her left leg, grunting against her very pregnant stomach, fumbling to reach the memory cores.__

My mom likes to cook push our buttons and prod  
My brother just brought home another big broad  
The eyes rollin' whispers come loud from the kitchen  
I'd come home more often if they'd only quit bitchin'

She started scrabbling at the memory cores, her fingertips barely able to reach them. One slid out and fell on the cockpit floor and her helmet cuing display blinked out along with one of the monitor screens. The engines flared again, and she slammed back upright, grunting. This had long since stopped being funny. When the engines stopped she flew against the harness again, "God damn it! I am going to turn you into a fucking _toaster_ you hunk of trash!"__

Dad on the other hand's a selfish old sod  
Drinks whiskey alone with my miserable dog  
Who won't run or fetch sure he couldn't care less  
He defiled my teddy bear and left me the mess  


Another core fell out with a faint clunk. Then another. The life support system failed and she had to pause to unfasten her mask; She was on cockpit air alone now. The starboard thrusters fired and another core dropped out. The thrusters whispered to silence and the main engines shut down, the only sound in the cockpit now the music blaring loudly.__

The table's set, we raise a toast  
The father, son, and the Holy Ghost  
I'm so glad this day only comes once a year  
You can keep your opinions, your presents, your happy new year  
They call this Christmas where I'm from  
They call this Christmas where I'm from 

"DIE damn you!" she yelled while flicking another core out of its socket. The computer screens finally went completely blank and she was left free-falling in darkness and silence, her dead fighter coasting along on its last vector. Malloy and Von Beck were still flying on her wings. That made her feel a lot better – at least she wasn't alone. But she sure wished like hell that the Vipers had a tractor bream.

She grunted loudly as another contraction hit. "Not. Possible." she hissed out. "I'm in a god damn flight suit, I cannot do this here!" Why were they coming so fast so soon? Everything she had read was that this was supposed to take hours and slowly build, not just hit like this.

The Viper shook slightly and she turned her head towards the bump she just felt. Malloy's Viper was tucked in on _top_ of hers, his left wing catching her right. The Viper started to yaw left and almost immediately there was another clunking sound. She looked and saw Von Beck's right wing hooked on her left. A gentle vibration ran through her crippled bird and she realized they were providing thrust, just about 1 gravity was all, slowly pushing her vector towards Mimas. Stopping was going to be an issue though, she thought. As was time. She had about ten hours of oxygen left with the emergency feed hissing quietly. But she had a feeling that there were going to be three people breathing that oxygen before it ran out – assuming she could get out of her flight suit in a cockpit.

Six hours later, she had her eyes closed and she was puffing air in and out of her lungs trying to ignore the increasingly uncomfortable contractions. "Not gonna happen." she kept repeating to herself. The vibration she had been feeling stopped and she looked out to see Malloy's and Von Beck's fighters falling away. Her Viper started to spin slowly. Then they pivoted around and the glare of their engines on full throttle caused them to vanish behind her. She realized how very lonely it could feel to be in a powerless, dark little box, racing through space and not a damn thing you could do about it.

She remembered her mother telling her about having been rescued from a powerless escape pod as a little girl. She had spent two weeks in that pod and no one knew she was even there. A shiver went up her back thinking about it. But, her friends not only knew where she was, they were actively trying to rescue her. Why had they dropped away? That must mean they were decelerating for Mimas. What was _she_ going to do? She felt a spreading wetness that soaked her flight suit and seat. "Ugh!"

Another contraction hit her and she hissed loudly, closing her eyes and puffing more. She felt all her fur stand up and she opened her eyes again. The cockpit was glowing green and she was no longer spinning. "What the hell?" she asked herself. She felt very strange, almost like she was covered in honey. For a while, nothing changed. Green glow, sticky weird feeling, contractions getting harder and faster. She tried to think how in the hell she was going to take her flight suit off. She had better figure it out pretty fast. Then the Viper rotated – she saw the arc of Saturn roll smoothly across her canopy until it was blotted out by Mimas and the comforting view of Mimas Station. A few seconds later, she saw the tubby shape of the little tug that was usually parked in the hangar bay. She couldn't recall ever seeing it actually fly. So that was what the green glow was – a tractor beam. Evidently a fighter cockpit didn't provide any shielding from the beam. That was a good thing, she decided, because if they had just stopped the fighter, without a functioning inertial dampener system, she would have been a reddish smear all over the instrument panel.

A much longer, stronger contraction hit her and she hoped they hurried. A lot.

She was unsealing her flight suit as the tug hauled her into the wide opening to the bay, and the Vipers began streaking past, relying on the retarding fields of the landing deck and their own nose thrusters to stop. When her own bird came to a slow, bumpy stop behind the tug, she manually pushed the canopy open, trying to get the suit off at the same time. Waddling her way out of the crippled fighter, she sat down on the deck with a loud "GNNAAGGHH!"

She heard Von Beck yell "MEDIC!" and she scooted her way out of the confining suit. This was _not_ how she imagined it; It was supposed to be this romantic event with Sterling holding her hand in a nice clean room with a doctor at the ready and soft music and "YOOOOWWWWW!" she yelled as the strongest contraction yet hit her.

18 pilots were clustered about her, all trying to help at the same time when the medic came running into the bay. "What's wrong with..." and he caught sight of his patient and realized exactly what was going on. "You have _got _to be kidding me!" He took one look at her and decided he was not going to have time to take her to the station's single-bed sick bay. His little med kit wasn't designed for this; birth wasn't exactly a common problem for fighter pilots flying on the Academy Training Range.

Crewman Chang looked down at the deck. "Damn, I didn't know having a baby was _that _messy."

His partner was half-into the cockpit and held his wet hand up from where he had leaned onto the seat, trying to collect the memory rods scattered on the floor. "Wait'll you see the mess in here."

"All yours, buddy." Chang laughed and started mopping.

The team leader, already popping panels on the fuselage just shook his head, "Starfleet is getting weirder by the day, gentlemen. This would never have happened back when I went through training. Things have gotten so easy."

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

OCTOBER, 2290

Sterling jogged into the Academy's Ops Center and skidded to a stop. "Cadet Andrew Sterling reporting as ordered!"

The lieutenant on duty just smiled, "You're gonna wanna take this call, Cadet. It's from Mimas Station."

Sterling couldn't imagine why Mimas Station would be calling unless something had gone really wrong with Heather's flight today, but the LT sure didn't look like it was bad news. "Yes, sir. Where can I..."

"We'll put it up on the main screen for you, Cadet."

Really puzzled now Sterling just said, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

The LT waved his hand and a tech tapped at his console. The screen came to life and Andy could see Puurunen and Malloy and a whole lot of other pilots crowded into the pickup's field of view, but no Heather. Something wasn't right, but everyone looked like they were on goofy-pills.

"Um, Cadet Sterling here?"

Malloy said, "Damn but you are in _deep _shit, brother." he grinned.

Von Beck chimed in, "He'll be sleeping on the couch for the next year." to the murmured agreements of the other pilots.

"What? What the hell is going on?" Glancing down at the LT he said, "Sorry, sir."

Peggy leaned into the view and said, "You missed it! You missed the entire thing!"

"Missed _what?!_" he was starting to get angry.

Lynd said, "We all had to play stork for you!"

"Stork?"

"Yeah! Oh, and congrats Daddy!"

"Da..." his mouth opened. "No, it's not for a month yet!" People started moving out of the way and he saw Heather laying on a narrow sick bay bunk holding two very small reddish bundles.

"I think we forgot to tell _them_, Andy." she smiled.

He just stared and barely heard Malloy say "It's okay though Andy, we've got the whole thing on tape. Her comm system stuck-on and started broadcasting everything a little before the music started..."

DUCHY OF THE SWORD WORLDS, HYDRAN KINGDOM

JULY, 2291

Marshal Sir Jons Seins, Knight Commander of the Hydran (Sword Worlds) Marines and Director of Hydran Intelligence came home and sat heavily in his favorite chair in his wife's sitting room, clearly feeling every one of his nearly 100 years of age. Hydrans were just starting to be considered seniors in their 90's and the Marshal was still a vigorous man; all four foot two inches of him. He ran his violet-skinned hand through his greying white hair and sighed heavily.

There were pictures on the wall and he let his eyes roam across them. His four children, one of whom smiled proudly back at him from his dark grey armor. He smiled at the memory. His eldest on the day he was promoted to Captain. He had died in the engine room of a Klingon battle-cruiser ensuring the success of a mission that had probably saved trillions of lives; But no more than a few dozen people in the entire galaxy knew of his role.

Next to that picture was a wedding photo of his adopted daughter and her husband. It hardly seemed right that the photo was now more than twenty years old and that _her _children were now getting married and having children of their own. Further along, the photos started getting...odd. Another wedding photo, but this time his adopted son Tir was standing next to his bride, holding her furry hand while her golden cat's eyes looked happily into the camera. Even that photo was nearly a decade old. There were more photos of children, Hydran and both Hydran/Dosadi and Dosadi/human mixes and quite a few plain old Dosadi.

There was one of a young Dosadi lad, a cut down his arm but glowing with pride and with his knife held up menacingly. He remembered that day, when young Kaileen had actually scored a solid 'kill' on him in the challenge ring, taking a good sized cut to do so. There would be no more pictures of Kaileen, however. Like his son, he had died defending others. And like his son's death, it had been the direct result of one of Jons' intelligence operations. Next to that were several shots of his favorite 'niece', young Heather, the daughter of Wilkes and Sooth. She was doing well in her third year at Starfleet Academy, he thought. He would have to write her soon and see how she was doing. Of course his daily intelligence summary gave him quite a bit more data than she was likely to share, but it was courteous to let her share her news. The intercepts from the Academy Flight Range from when she had gone into labor had left him smiling for the better part of a day and the memory brought a brief smile again today.

His wife, the Lady Marin waited patiently while he scanned through the photos. As he brought his eyes back down she said, "My lord, you are troubled again. You're making a habit of coming straight in here and looking at these old memories. Is it a burden that you can share?"

He thought for a few moments. "Marin, in all my time in the Duke's employ, I have never brought my work into our marriage." he paused. She said nothing, watching her husband. "Atrocities are common throughout the galaxy, another should have no more effect upon me than a gentle rain.

"Why am I so unable to ignore one more?"

She stood up and walked over to her husband, caressing his face and smoothing his hair. "Seins, everyone has their limits. You have seen many times more evil than anyone else, much more than your share. You have never burdened me with that knowledge, you have never spoken of your many missions, nor the costs of them, even when that was a cost we both bore."

He looked up at her. The woman was too shrewd.

She smiled. "Seins, my husband, my love, I know that you are a good and decent man. I know that you have worked for the cause of good your whole life, even when that required that you do evil. Sometimes, good men must do evil things to end greater evil, but there will always be balance. The price must be paid, even with the best of intentions." She walked over to the photos and took down the one of her eldest son. Looking into his eyes, she continued,

"I know that because of you, because you have born the burdens, because you – and I – have paid the price, that there are many alive and happy today who would otherwise not be. I know that there is much less evil than would otherwise infest our galaxy. I would not have you be anything other than what you are, though the price be everything and everyone that I love."

She put the photo back, looked briefly at Kaileen's photograph and turned back to her husband. "I do not know how you decide what actions you will take, and which you will not. I do know that I trust that you will always make the right decision – one that leads to greater good. Know that whatever course you take Seins, I will never blame you for the cost that we both must bear."

He took her hand, cupping it to the side of his face. "I find it difficult to be dispassionate in this instance. I am becoming a sentimental old fool, Marin. My heart pushes me to do that which my mind tells me is not in the best interests of my King, my Duke, or my House."

"Is it the _right_ thing to do?"

"There have been many times when I have not done the _right_ thing, Marin. Only rarely do those times haunt me. Why should this time be different?"

"God moves within you, Seins. I have known it since I first laid eyes on you and decided to marry you."

He laughed, "You never told me _you_ decided that. And here I thought my father contacted yours!"

She smiled. "He did. I may have made a few comments and suggestions to his business partners beforehand...In any case, " she tugged on a lock of his hair, "Go to your balcony and watch the stars. Listen to the voice of God and let His will move you to do that which is His intent."

The Marshal stood, hugged his wife tightly, and went up to his office to do as she suggested.


	11. Chapter 10

_**CHAPTER 10**_

"_One death is a tragedy. A million is a statistic."_

_- Josef Stalin – Earth (Human)_

TAJOR WORK CAMP, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

DECEMBER, 2291

Elim Tang sat comfortably in Legate Kai's office. "You have done well, Legate."

"Thank you...how do I address you?"

"We of the Obsidian Order do not use ranks among outsiders. You may simply call me Tang."

"Thank you, Tang."

"We have high hopes that this will become a productive and useful Outpost in short order, and perhaps in a century's time, a thriving member of the Union. How goes the removal of this infestation?"

"I haven't made a complete removal much of a priority, Tang. We've been using them to prepare colony sites, to mine, to build the necessary machines, that sort of thing. We attempted to find markets for their hides, but despite their interesting markings, their lack of fur seems to have hurt their value. Strangely, the Free Traders that I have commissioned to find a market for them as helper-beasts and servants have come up empty. Their anatomies have provided some very interesting research data however."

The taller Cardassian nodded. "There is a problem."

Kai swallowed the lump in his throat. When the Obsidian Order had a problem, it usually meant very, very bad things for those who were not in the Order itself. "What can I do to help?"

"Apparently, your Free Traders have been indiscreet and some of the various media outlets have decided to make this their story of the week." he sneered. "These charming little creatures are being presented as sentient beings and bleeding hearts across the galaxy are bemoaning the cruel Cardassians."

"Let me guess – the Federation?"

"Yes, but not just the Federation. We are receiving some commentary from the Romulons, the Hydrans, the Orions...Mostly the usual 'Save The Poor!' crowd, but it is beginning to approach the level of a nuisance. What is the current population level of the creatures?"

"Approximately 470 million. We've located all of them in a series of large camps where they can be best utilized and employed to productive ends."

"How many have escaped?"

"Virtually none. They are easily domesticated and quite docile. I once handed one of them a phaser – empty of course! - and invited it to kill me. The little thing refused." Kai laughed, "Pathetic, really."

Tang nodded and thought for a moment. "We would like to have them removed entirely by the end of next year when we will begin moving in the first Colonists. This will also remove the media pressure before it has time to gain any real traction. Make sure to keep your Free Traders under control – I would prefer you not use them at all any more."

"It shall be as you say, Tang." Kai agreed quickly.

"HARRY'S BAR", DENEB V, ALPHA QUADRANT

DECEMBER, 2291

Harry's Bar was a run-down space-port bar on Deneb V. The rain glistened wetly on the pavement outside as the broken 'BAR' – in actual English - sign flickered in the night. Inside, Dejan Lilac sat, dejected, looking at Fallon's mother. "I have wasted more time, effort and money on this foolish crusade...What is it about you that makes me care at all whether you live or die?"

She simply sat, peacefully. "You are a good man. Your heart makes you do that which is right."

He shook his head, "I am far from a good man. But there is nothing more to do. No one will help you." He took another drink.

An Arcturian sat down across from him. "You are Dejan Lilac, Orion Trader, are you not?"

Lilac discretely dropped one hand down to a concealed side-arm, "Yes. Why?"

The Arcturian smiled. "That will not be necessary. You seek to help these creatures?" he indicated Fallon's mother.

"Yes, but no one else does." he snorted disgustedly.

"You are incorrect. But it is time to behave as though you believe that."

"What do you mean by that?"

"There are those who are willing to help. But they cannot move openly. And by attracting attention you make it impossible for them to help at all. You must appreciate this fact."

"The Federation? They will send ships and troops?"

The Arcturian looked annoyed. "That would be moving openly, would it not? No, you have taken the lead in this and in the lead you must remain, even as you must become invisible."

"I've spent more than enough time and money accomplishing nothing." he snorted.

"Your purse will be made full again and the funds needed for what can be done will be made available to you." the Arcturian's expression relaxed.

"How much money?" Lilac was interested now.

"There is only so much that can be done without risking war, Dejan Lilac."

"How much can be done?"

"A small raid, a rescue mission, nothing more. How many ships can you command?"

"I have three freighters, large, and atmosphere-capable. But that is nothing! There are millions!"

"Some is better than none."

Lilac thought. "I would need warships. My freighters have no weapons that could deal with the Cardassian forces on Orias III."

"You would also need ground troops. Can these be arranged? They must not have any attachment to any major power."

Dejan laughed, "I think I know just the group. You have heard of the mercenary group 'The Foreign Legion'?"

The Arcturian snorted. "I am a professional. Of course I have. But they are few and use antique weapons and tactics...ahh. Very clever. They are well known rogues who pride themselves on hopeless battles and are composed of outcasts from every society in the Galaxy." he bowed his head. "I am impressed."

Lilac raised his glass in a toast as he took another sip. "Their tactics are antique, but highly effective. Very few forces are prepared to deal with them. Do you know they claim to trace their lineage to an ancient military force on Earth that was made up entirely of criminals?"

"I had heard the story, but gave it little credence. Every mercenary company claims a proud history. It is part of their advertising. I know of a Klingon company that claims to have been founded by Kahless himself."

"But I would need cover. My freighters cannot simply fly into Cardassian space, blast into Orias III, load up a few thousand people and fly away. We would be slaughtered like woolrats." Lilac shook his head.

"Arrangements are being made. You are familiar with a place called The Badlands?"

Lilac snorted. "What Trader isn't? The place is a hell-hole for navigation and dangerous besides."

"And a very good place to hide as well as being reasonably close to Orias III."

"Hmm. It is that. What are these arrangements?"

"Make your plans as though you had the cover you seek. Center them upon using The Badlands as your staging ground. You will be contacted in two months time with details." He stood up without any formalities and left the bar quickly.

Dejan finished his drink at a swallow and looked at Fallon's mother. "Perhaps there are men left in the galaxy after all."

STARFLEET OPERATIONS, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

FEBRUARY, 2292

Admiral Angie Stone was not used to feeling intimidated. But the man sitting in the room with her made her wish she had a phaser – or better yet the old _Potemkin_ wrapped around her. She wondered if Captain Spruance felt the same way. The man was obviously Starfleet Intelligence, and made her think 'slimy' the moment she saw him.

A device on the table top blinked a green light. He smiled and said, "Admiral. Captain. I have an unusual request for you. And a very unpleasant one at that."

She and Spruance looked at each other. She said, "Well, you're sure making it sound attractive. What is it? And who are you?"

"Who I am is of no importance. Call me Jones if you need a name. I represent Starfleet Intelligence. There is something that the Federation Council would like to accomplish, but for political and military reasons, it must not accomplish. We need someone who can make this thing happen, and take the fall for it whether it works or not. All we can promise is that things will be made right later."

She laughed, "Are you trying to get us to say no?"

"No. I've studied you both, of course. Were I to come to you and try to sugar-coat this request, you would think I was lying and rightly so. But by telling you the truth immediately, I will gain your trust. I hide nothing: This is a nightmare. You would probably gain nothing by accepting and in fact it will likely cost you greatly."

Spruance laughed a short barking laugh, "Then why the hell would we do whatever this thing is? And what the hell is it?"

He turned to Spruance. "Because both of you have a strong sense of justice. Because you are both highly dedicated to the founding principles of the Federation. And because you both tend to do what is right over what is easy."

Stone said, "Well I will admit you've got me curious, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to say no, thanks for asking. What is this thing and why can't the Federation do it anyway?"

"If you refuse, you must agree this conversation never happened. You will never discuss it with anyone, even each other, again. Understood?"

They both agreed and the man went on. "There is a race of people being exterminated. They have been enslaved, starved, beaten, tortured, skinned, vivisected, experimented upon and they are now being systematically murdered."

Stone, surprised said, "Then why can't the Federation do something? That's what we DO is stop things like that from happening!"

The agent tapped a portable console and a series of low-quality pictures began projecting onto the wall. He said quietly, "Because they are in Cardassian space." Some of the images were clearly sensor traps from a ship flying in, others were from a hidden camera and the bouncing image made it plain it was being worn. Interspersed were pictures of Fallon's mother and a few snippets of interviews with her. The majority of images were a horror show of everything he had said. A small-statured people with large, liquid, black eyes and black and white skin being shot, beaten, flayed – a parade of nightmares.

Ten minutes later when the projections finished, the last image showing on the wall was of a young female humanoid being cut open on a table. Stone and Spruance both were white-faced, their jaws clamped tightly together.

Spruance said, "That might be worth going to war to stop."

The man said, "No, it is not. And we have a plan to stop it without a war, but as I said, the cost to you is high. The Cardassian's society is militaristic and cruel, but this is beyond even their normal limits. We believe it is a small, expansionist sub-society called the Obsidian Order that is responsible, but we have little information about them."

Puzzled, Stone asked "Then what do you want us to do? Rescuing an entire people? That's a job for a fleet with heavy transport support and a lot of ground troops. I'm afraid you may have been misinformed. I command a desk and Spruance teaches children how to fly."

The agent snorted. "I know exactly who you are, Admiral. Your part will become clear, though it will be harder than you can imagine. We have put together an OPORD _(ed: Operations Order, a detailed set of instructions for conducting a military operation)_ for you that will save at least some of these people. It is all we can do. We believe it has a very high probability of success with very minimal friendly casualties. An acceptable level of risk."

Stone said, "Acceptable to who?" and he shrugged.

Spruance said, "Let me see it."

The man slid a PADD across to Spruance. He and Sterling skimmed it. The agent waited patiently while the two officers read quickly through the document, frequently shaking their heads.

Spruance said, "You are insane. I cannot trick these young people into doing this thing. I will not. And you have set me up in the process! Even your own assessment has me in jail! 'Estimated to be not more than 30 days' indeed!"

Stone looked at him, "You would have me convict my own niece of piracy and treason and my friend here of dereliction of duty and negligence?"

"As I said, I can only assure you that all would be made right. The Cardassians would be enraged that such a raid took place, but the fact that it were done by a group of idealistic, well-meaning youngsters acting on their own means that the Federation can deny involvement. By having YOU convict the ring-leaders, especially your niece, it proves the lie. Were we to hire mercenaries for the entire operation, they would rightly conclude it was exactly what we are doing – a diplomatic fig-leaf. But not one that they could ignore.

"Our assessment is that the Cardassians would like to be free of the issue on that planet – this raid may very well end the slaughter entirely. With the Federation taking a firm hand against the ring-leaders, we show sensitivity to Cardassian demands, they show that they are not being run over roughshod and we can parlay that into stronger relations with them and we can end an atrocity.

"For the Federation, it is win-win..."

"But WE all get royally FUCKED!" Spruance said.

"Captain, please. Intel has computed a better than 90% probability that the Cardassians will be satisfied with a pro forma conviction and imprisonment. The Federation Council would issue a full pardon when things have blown over, again a better than 90% probability that will be within 30 days. Essentially, you would have a 30 day vacation at some detention center and work on your Dom-Jot game. Admiral, your niece would be free as a bird with a combat command under her belt at the same time. Once pardoned, she'd be returned to the Academy and graduate with her class.

"It looks horrible – by design. It must convince the Cardassians. But the end result is not horrible, and you will have done much to help an innocent people and the Federation as well."

Spruance was still looking through the OPORD. "You even provide the codes so they can generate forged orders for the _USS Archer_ and Nova Squadron, I see. We can't even have a real ship, you have them using the school frigate. She should be a museum ship."

"Orias III has only light defenses. Three fighters, a patrol craft, and some ground defenses. A frigate and a squadron of fighters is easily their match. Especially when that squadron of fighters is the highly acclaimed – and idealistic - Nova Squadron."

"You think they'll go do this thing for you, all on their own?"

"No, you will note that the plan hinges on you motivating Heather and Sterling to want to do so, and making sure they 'find' the OPORD included in the appendices. When they find that, they will conclude that your intent was for them to find it, and that it is your desire that they carry out that mission."

"And then we completely stab them in the back at their trial." Spruance shook his head.

"Yes. But afterward, they can be told the truth. Their pilots and the crew of the _Archer_ will be innocent – they had valid, written orders supplied by Sterling and Heather. We are talking a week, perhaps two, of them believing they made a hideous mistake during the trial, and then once they are transported to the detention center and the Cardassians have left they too will be told and get an easy 30 day vacation and they will know that they performed admirably in a very difficult job."

"Like puppets." the Captain said.

"If you like." the agent said.

Stone was just shaking her head.

The agent said, "Or, you can do nothing and the Oriaslings will be exterminated. There is no consequence to you refusing this … nightmare. It is understandable that you would refuse – these people are nothing to you. They are not even part of the Federation."

Spruance stood up, skidded the PADD back at him and said, "FUCK you." and stormed over to the door. He almost slammed into it when it did not open. He turned and looked back at the agent. Stone was still sitting there, looking at the hideous image projecting on the wall.

The agent said quietly, "I will need a definitive answer from you both."

Her head sagged down and Spruance said, "Are you all bastards like this? Do you study how to manipulate people so they do what you want?"

"Then your answer is?" he was clearly unaffected by Spruance's insult.

"You knew before you started talking that I would have to agree, didn't you?" Spruance asked. 'Jones' smiled slightly.

Stone picked the PADD up. "When does the nightmare begin?"

The door opened. "The dates are in the appendices. For this to work, you must play your parts to perfection. They must believe this is their idea, and they must believe they are abandoned when the time comes. But remember, all will be made right. We promise."

Spruance said, "We promise?" he laughed bitterly, "Boy, that makes me feel SO much better."


	12. Chapter 11

_**CHAPTER 11**_

"_Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive!"_

_- Sir Walter Scott – Earth (Human)_

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

FEBRUARY, 2292

Sterling, Heather, Inga Von Beck, Paavo Puurunen, Peggy Lynd, and Mike Malloy were sitting in one of the Academy's many smaller classrooms waiting for Captain Spruance and just bullshitting like all pilots do everywhere.

Noticing Malloy and Lynd flirting with each other even more than had been the norm for them the past year Sterling joked, "Jesus, you two should just get married already."

They looked at each other and laughed. Malloy said, "Um..." and Peggy blushed.

Inga said, "Oh no way. You didn't!"

Lynd said, "No, no! Well, not yet, anyway."

Heather clapped and said, "When?"

Malloy said, "Slow down guys. We aren't as lucky as you two – You guys can get pregnant, engaged, married, and they'll just give you more medals. US they'd kick out. We're not even formally engaged yet. We're waiting until after graduation in June so we stay within regs."

Heather said, "HEY! You and Inga got medals for saving me!"

Peggy ignored her and took his hand, "And once we make _that_ formal, we're going to get married in Golden Gate Park right at sunset on December 21st.That's the same date my parents got married. But don't say anything yet! Neither of our parents knows yet. We want it to be a surprise. But Inga, I want you to be my maid of honor and Heather, you've got to be my bridesmaid!"

Malloy said, "Andy, you know you're the only one I'd pick for Best Man, and Paavo, you're my groomsman. So you guys clear your calendars for the 21st right?"

There were the usual congratulations and jokes about honeymoons and Sterling decided "So, Inga, Paavo, we just need to get you two to hook up and we'll have a squadron of couples!"

Von Beck and Puurunen looked at each other and broke down laughing.

"What? What's so funny?"

Von Beck said, "You really didn't know?"

The other pilots were looking at each other. Lynd finally said, "What?"

Paavo shrugged and said, "I'm gay."

"No shit!" Malloy said, "You dating someone here at the Academy?"

"Nah. I don't go for Fleet guys. I'm pretty seriously involved with an artist down in the city though. He's a sculptor; you should see his work, they're incredible."

Sterling said, "I'll be damned. I never knew!"

"Why would you? I don't advertise my sexuality. That's private. Unlike _some_ people who go out of their way to give birth in a cockpit...on the radio no less."

Heather laughed, "That was _not_ my fault!"

Malloy looked up as Spruance walked into the classroom. "Captain on Deck!" and they all stood to attention.

"As you were cadets." he said and made his way over to the lectern. "Today, cadets, we're going to have a short discussion on ethics, the founding principles of the Federation, and when it is appropriate to go to war. Just something I want you thinking of as you prepare yourselves to graduate and head out into the fleet where your actions may, in fact, lead to war if you act rashly."

He turned on one screen and projected an excerpt from the Federation Charter:

_"We the lifeforms of the United Federation of Planets determined to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war, and to reaffirm faith in the fundamental rights of sentient beings, in the dignity and worth of all lifeforms, in the equal rights of members of planetary systems large and small, and to establish conditions under which justice and respect for the obligations arising from treaties and other sources of interstellar law can be maintained, and to promote social progress and better standards of living on all worlds..." _

Then he began displaying images of the Oriaslings and the horrors they were being subjected to. When he finished, he turned to his class and said, "Now then. What would be the right thing to do were these atrocities being committed in a neighboring power, say, the Klingon Empire?"

Peggy looked like she was going to throw up. Heather had one hand over her mouth and Paavo had turned away. Sterling said, "Go in there and kill every last one of the bastards."

Spruance frowned, "An easy, macho, emotional response Cadet. Tell me why and what you think the consequences of such an action would be."

He thought for a second. "The charter even _says_ 'to reaffirm the fundamental rights of sentient beings' and better standards of living. This is wholesale murder!"

"It also says 'save succeeding generations from the scourge of war' Cadet. But, we grant you a fleet of starships and you fly to this Klingon planet, blowing your way through their border patrols, killing thousands of Klingon warriors. You go here and 'kill every last one of the bastards'. Then what?"

"Well, load them up and take them someplace safe I guess."

"Someplace safe. Fine. So now you have half a billion living beings you have removed from their home world, whether they want to or not, and you are taking them...where? Some new planet safely in Federation space, no doubt. So in addition to your fleet of starships, you must have a really HUGE fleet of transports unless you plan on taking several months. And you must protect them from the now rather irritated Klingon Empire.

"How many planets would be depopulated in your war, Cadet?"

Malloy said, "But you have to do _something!_"

"Really Cadet? Why?"

Inga spoke up, "Tolstoy said in _War and Peace_, 'All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing."'

"Which is the greater evil, Cadet Von Beck? A few million beings dying horribly or a few hundred billion because good men refused to do nothing? What is ethical behavior?"

Paavo chimed in, "Doing what is right, sir."

"Wonderful. What IS right? Who defines it?"

Heather added, "Society as a whole."

"So, if the Klingon society defined their behavior with these creatures as right, all is well, correct?"

"No, that's not what I meant!" she protested.

"Then say what you mean, Cadet."

"Well..." she paused, "You have to act according to _your_ society so if _ours_ said that was wrong, then in order to be right, we'd have to act to stop it."

"Even if the consequence is war? I suppose so since _our_ society is so much more right than theirs. It must be because our fleet is stronger."

"Well, no, there are..." she paused again, "You have to balance things. Like punishing a child when they do something wrong. You don't kill them if they scratch you, you just correct them sternly, let them know that they were wrong."

"I see. So our hypothetical Klingons are naughty children and we should send them a sternly worded letter."

"That's not it at all! You're creating a straw man, sir."

He smiled. "Well done, Cadet. Very well. So a scaled response is in order here. What sort of a response would you see as being appropriate for stopping mass murder without causing an even bigger mass murder?"

Sterling tried again, "Maybe a raid? Something that wouldn't cause a full scale war but let them know we were aware of it and were willing to use force to stop it?"

"That can lead to a dangerous escalation, especially if you're _not_ willing to engage in a full scale war, Cadet, but that idea has merit, and is in fact the exercise I want you to complete for next week. I would like you, as a squadron, to generate a complete OPORD detailing a raid on a hypothetical Klingon world where such atrocities are taking place. Include in your OPORD an analysis of likely Klingon responses and how you will prepare for them and how you will prevent such a raid from escalating out of control.

"Thank you for such an excellent segue Cadet Sterling." he laughed. "On that note, I'll dismiss you to your tasks – Heather, Sterling, please remain behind. I have something for you."

When the other cadets had left, Spruance handed them an isolinear chip labeled 'OPORD' "This will give you a template to work from that has considerably more details then your texts. This is from an actual planned raid from some years back that never took place; I expect your squadron's to be at least as thorough. Understood?"

"Understood, sir!"

"Dismissed." The two cadets turned and left the room. He began re-organizing his papers feeling like he had just given poisoned candy to his children.

Heather was sitting on the floor between Sterling's legs while he sat on the bunk rubbing her shoulders. She held the PADD up so they could both see it as they read the OPORD. "Andy. He gave us the wrong chip."

"Look at the dates – this is a real OPORD." They both skimmed through the file.

"Jesus." he said, "Those weren't from some history lesson, those pictures are _current_."

"Where's Orias III?" she followed a link "Oh wow. Cardassian space."

"That explains the topic of the lecture today. Is he planning a raid? Why isn't Starfleet going to...Wait, back up to yeah, right there." he started reading aloud, "In order to maintain plausible deniability all craft will be painted to resemble mercenary or pirate craft. No registration numbers, documents, or any other connection with the Federation can be allowed."

She scrolled down, "Limited Cardassian forces present...Look, there's 3 freighters loaded with troops that are called out in Friendly Forces. They're planning on a rescue mission. Some at least."

He reached over her shoulder and touched a control. "Christ, Heather. Those are computer codes for Ops. We could cut our own orders and make them legit with those."

"Hang on a second." She touched a control and dumped the data on the rod into her personal files. "He's gotta come and get this. We have to pretend we never saw it. But I want to study that before we get rid of it – something's going on here." She yanked the rod out and put it on her side table and put her PADD on the bed.

A few minutes later, the door chimed and she called out "Come!" Neither was terribly surprised when Captain Spruance came through the door.

"Ah, Cadets, thank goodness. I'm afraid I gave you the wrong chip – I meant to give you this one." he extended his hand with another isolinear rod in it, also labeled 'OPORD'. "You haven't gotten started yet, have you?"

Sterling laughed, "I'm afraid we've got other things on our mind, sir." and he caressed Heather's cheek while she leaned back into him.

Spruance smiled. He had received a notice on his PADD the moment they had opened the file. He gave the lad credit for not lying – he never actually answered his question. He picked up the original chip and said, "Well don't let me interrupt Cadets; At least since you've received special dispensation for being married. How are the little ones doing?"

Sterling said, "Care to see? They're sound asleep for once."

"No, let's not wake them – and you two need to have a few minutes to yourselves anyway. Carry on." he turned and left their room.

Heather looked up at Sterling. "Something's weird. He doesn't make mistakes like that, Andy."

"I know. I was thinking the same thing. Especially not with active computer codes. So why did he give it to us?"

"And why that discussion?"

They looked at each other. Heather said, "Let's look at the order of battle again." She brought the file up, "One frigate, six fighters. Three freighters. 60 mercenaries. Three maintenance teams." Her heart was beating faster.

Sterling said, "He means us. The _Archer_, Nova Squadron, and whoever's got the freighters."

"Why us? Why not a real team of Special Forces. They've got all the slick gear and the training to do a raid."

He shook his head, "And it would be totally obvious it was a Federation raid – and start a war. That's what he was telling us. They _can't_ use Starfleet."

"Andy, we _are_ Starfleet."

"No, we're _students_. Think about it – if we get everyone together and tell them about what's going on, they'll want to go help. We just go do it, the Federation's off the hook. We're just a bunch of Cadets who got stupid. They slap us on the wrist and everyone's happy. And we've saved a whole bunch of those little people."

Her fur all stood up. "No, Andy. We don't tell them what's going on."

"What do you mean? We have to get them to want to go with us. They're not going to...ohhh. The codes. That's why those were in there." He bit his lip.

"And that's why he gave it to us. We write up the orders and hand them out like it's a real, approved mission. Everyone follows along like they're supposed to." she nodded.

"So, the only ones who get slapped on the wrist are...us. I think now is when we pay Starfleet back for all the waivers."

"Yeah." She said. "But isn't that how it's supposed to be? The leaders are the ones responsible. Not the troops."

"We could do this, Heather. But we could also get totally screwed. I don't even know how many crimes we'd be committing."

"But we'd be doing the right thing. That last picture..." she closed her eyes. "All I could think of was someone doing that to Reighney or Aedan. And no one coming to help. If they want us to do it, they wouldn't really put us in jail, we'd get like a reprimand or something. Have to repeat our Senior Year maybe. Think of everything Captain Kirk got away with!" She stood up and the two of them walked into the little room where their kits were sleeping.

He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. "It's combat, Heather. Real, live combat. There are Cardassian fighters there. Real missiles, real phasers. We could get killed."

"They _are_ being killed. We can't do nothing, Andy. Can you imagine what it must be like to be those people? Day after day, praying that someone will come to save you and day after day, no one comes. Do you remember after the crash? Every day, I had a little less hope that anyone would come. And all we had to do was just survive. These people are watching their friends and families being murdered. And no one comes.

"Andy, I can't stand the thought. We're the best there is. Can you honestly say you're OK with staying here and pretending we didn't see that OPORD? Knowing that was going on and we had how to stop it put in our laps and we did nothing? Year after year, knowing that we could have..." she closed her eyes.

He squeezed her tightly, "No. We can ask Rollin and Nina to take care of the kids for a little bit, we'll make up a story that we need the time alone to get ready for finals. But once we start down this road, we can't stop."

She sighed, "We'll need to write a fake set of orders putting Nova Squadron and the _Archer_ on detached training to cover. The OPORD said it was a week just to get there."

"With those codes we can make it work. We can at least save some of them. And not start a war in the process."

"Andy." she leaned back into him, her eyes sad.

"Shhh. I know. We're going to get screwed."

"My father told me a story about Uncle Corin letting his mate die in order to save him. He told him it was his responsibility to save my father. He said Uncle Corin told him 'Honor means always doing the right thing even if it costs you everything you ever had, or dreamed of having.' I never thought that could really happen to me."

They stood together for a little while, watching the identical little girls sleep safely in their crib, protected, nurtured, and loved.

STARFLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

MARCH, 2292

Captain Ray Spruance picked up the isolinear chip that had come with the morning's usual batch of documents. It was marked as new orders for him and he turned it over slowly in his fingers. Instead of putting it in his PADD, he looked out his office windows at the blue waters of the Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge cutting across it. Such a beautiful morning. He looked down again at the chip. Such an ugly thing. He slammed the chip into the slot on the device and noted that, as expected, the orders passed all the security checks. He started reading through the document.

He shook his head with a wry smile. He was being ordered to leave immediately for a two week conference on mythology and military heraldry; in Kauai, Hawaii. He'd have time to dive, one of his passions that he rarely had a chance to indulge. They had the power to send him anywhere, and they sent him to a vacation spot. He frowned again. He'd get another 30-day vacation when they got back. If they got back.

Ih-Tedda would be suspicious. He wondered how they would explain away his absence and their own. He sighed and headed back to his quarters to pack.

"What the hell, sir?!" Commander Ih-Tedda asked him. "Two weeks detached duty right before mid-term exams? And _mythology?_"

He looked at the Apache woman, "Are you saying you can't handle it, Ih-Tedda? I'm a little surprised."

"Of course not, sir, but this is weird."

He chuckled, "I needed a break, I haven't even taken leave for 3 years. And I have to admit all of these mythical flying beasts showing up on helmets in Nova Squadron has kindled my interest in the subject." He desperately tried to remember the things they had painted on their helmets. "Angels, demons, dragons, eagles, and two things I can't even name!" he finished lamely.

"A Pegasus and a gryphon, sir."

"Yes, yes – that's them. Did you know that military units throughout history have used symbolism like that to try to call upon the powers of the beasts in combat?" He struggled to try to come up with something that would make it look like the subject held some sort of interest for him.

"I'm Apache sir, what do you think?"

"Oh yes, of course. In any case, I'm lucky I get to go! I've left instructions for you, Ih-Tedda. Stick to what I've laid out and you'll be just fine."

"You requested this conference, sir?"

"Ih-Tedda, you are so suspicious!" he laughed, "I'll leave it as a mystery for you to solve." He winked at her, "Can you help me haul my dive gear to the landing field? It can be a bit much with luggage."

"Oh." she said and smiled wryly, "Sorry, sir. It just came out of left field is all." She bent to pick up one of his bags.

"And for god's sake, don't pester me unless it's an emergency. I trust your judgment, Ih-Tedda."

The next day, she was sitting at his desk trying to figure out whether she should try to work through more of the giant stack of daily documents before she went to her next meeting. Upper command seemed to revolve around endless meetings and giant stacks of files to be read, sorted, signed and sent to the next person to do the same. Her door chime sounded and she yelled, "Come!"

Cadet Sterling came in and saluted, "Ma'am! Cadet Sterling reporting!"

"I didn't call for you, Cadet."

"No, ma'am. Captain Spruance gave me this to give to you yesterday. He said it was a surprise." He handed her a data rod marked 'OPORD'.

"Really." She took the rod and slid it smoothly into her PADD and began reading. "What the hell?"

"What is it, ma'am?"

"Were you aware of the contents of this, Cadet?"

"No ma'am." Sterling lied, straight-faced.

"I have never heard of anything like this in my entire time at Starfleet." she checked the authenticity codes again and then fired a query at the central records department and cross-checked several other departments. Everything checked. There were authentic orders covering movement, logistics, communications, everything.

She looked at him, studying him closely. This stank. But there was no way he could do anything like what she was seeing. He was an amazingly good pilot, but he was something of a clod with computer systems. None of the cadets in the senior class were anything spectacular with computers. Certainly not to the degree they'd need to be to make something like this work. Maybe it was for real. It wasn't exactly Spruance's style, but the old man had gotten a little odd in the last few years anyway; This batch of cadets had driven him to distraction. "Well Cadet. Nova Squadron is to board the _USS Archer_ with your maintenance teams and proceed to The Badlands for a comprehensive tactical mid-term exam exercise. Your Spring Break is canceled as are your written exams here; They will be administered during travel home. Evidently, this exercise will be used as your primary assessment for post-graduation assignments."

He managed to look surprised, "Really? A combat exam?"

"Yeah. First time for everything, I suppose." She slid a blank rod into her PADD and dumped over the student documents. Removing it, she handed it to Sterling, "Here are the relevant portions for your pilots. You are the Mission Commander with Cadet Heather as your XO. Cadet Thompson will be in command of the _USS Archer_ and will be subordinate to you. Looks like this is all students, Cadet. They're pulling the instructors off the _Archer _and sending them under separate transport, so if you folks screw the pooch, it'll be all on you. You leave orbit tonight. Looks like he wants to see how quickly your teams can react. Better get moving."

"Thank you ma'am!" he smiled with all the excitement he would be expected to have.

She watched him for a moment while he collected the data rods. "I don't know how Captain Spruance got this through Risk Management, or the Commandant, but they've both signed off on it. I also don't know why he didn't consult me on any of this and I am more than a little offended by that. But Cadet, this is going to be a real mission – not the combat of course – but you have to get a ship, your pilots, your maintainers, all safely to a very, very dangerous region of space and back again. This is a real command. Let's not have a repeat of the _Conrad_, shall we?"

He blushed, "No, ma'am." and he realized he had lied again.

"Dismissed."

FEDERATION FRIGATE USS ARCHER, EARTH ORBIT

MARCH, 2292

Cadet Captain James Thompson was standing with his Cadet Chief Engineer, Suzy Straw as they watched supplies being off-loaded onto the _Archer_. "Can you believe these orders?"

She smiled, "You deserve it, Jimmy. We're the best class that's ever handled the _Archer_ and you know it. We kick ass."

"This is going to be the most amazing set of exams ever. And we're even getting live torpedoes! They've got some sort of special surprise set up for us if we get to live-fire. Maybe some old scows that we get to take down."

"Looks like it'll be a lot of old scows." she checked her list. "We're getting a full combat load-out like we were a fleet-duty frigate."

"Hey, for this exam, we _will_ be a fleet-duty frigate! Just an old one. But the _Archer's_ got some fight left in her yet; We'll show those scows what for!"

She giggled, "That's about the limit of what we can handle and you know it. Everything on the _Archer_'s an antique no matter how well we take care of her."

"Well, it's not like they'll be shooting back. But I expect her to be ready just in case the instructors throw a surprise at us – They're up to something and we're going to slam-dunk this exam."

"Roger _THAT_." she said emphatically.

FEDERATION FRIGATE USS ARCHER, UNDER WAY, ALPHA QUADRANT

MARCH, 2292

Sterling looked down the briefing room table at Heather, Thompson, Straw, and Christine Barton. The frigate's briefing room was tiny and felt cramped. He breathed deeply to calm himself, but for once his stutter wasn't threatening to show up. Heather was smiling at him, and her support and confidence in him made all the difference in the world. "All right folks. Let's get started. We've got six days to get to The Badlands and that gives us six days to prepare."

Thompson was slightly irritated at being put under the command of a fighter pilot. "Relax Sterling, this is a cake walk."

Sterling shook his head "It's not what you think it is, Thompson."

Heather took out an isolinear chip and inserted it into the slot on the briefing room table. She said, "These are our real orders."

"What do you mean _real _orders?" Then he closed his mouth as he and the other cadets present began to read the overview. While he was reading he said, "What the hell, Sterling! You can't just cancel an exam like this and write your own..." he stopped as he saw that the orders came from Starfleet Command. He paused, "I call bullshit, Sterling. Let me see you authenticate these. Which one of you wrote them?"

Instead of answering, Sterling tapped the authentication icons which promptly glowed green. Heather slid several other chips down the table at the various other cadets. "Here are each of your FRAGOs _(ed: Fragmentary Order. A sub-set of an OPORD containing unit-specific instructions for a military operation relating to last minute changes to the OPORD)_. Feel free to authenticate them yourselves."

Barton, in student command of the Maintenance section for the first time felt an icy lump growing in her stomach as she read through her FRAGO. She had 24 Cadets under her command and for the first time they would be expected to do the job for real with no instructors looking over their shoulders and no Chief Petty Officer Brown keeping things running smoothly. They didn't even have a Technical Inspector aboard. They would be getting birds ready for real combat and fixing real battle damage. Screwing up now wouldn't mean a poor grade or extra duty, it would mean someone was going to die.

Straw looked up, "Why the hell would they send an all-Cadet mission to rescue a bunch of people from some planet in Cardassian space? We've got Special Forces for that sort of thing." Thompson and Barton echoed the question and Sterling explained,

"They need to be able to say it wasn't a Federation mission, so that they can step away from responsibility. Otherwise it would be an act of war. With all cadets doing it, it's just a bunch of idealistic students who got out of hand. They can apologize, and everyone gets back to business."

Thompson looked up, "Yeah, right. The Cardassian's would want someone's head. That's going to be the commanders of this ship of fools."

Sterling held his head up. "No, Thompson, that's going to be the man who issued the orders to his subordinates. Me. You folks were doing what you were supposed to and following my orders."

"You, my friend are insane. They are going to crucify you for this."

"They'll make it look like that, but you know the orders came from Starfleet Command – they aren't just going to hang me out to dry. They'll just make it look like that to the Cardassians." Heather tried not to look at Sterling, but her eyes still flicked quickly over to him and then back down the table.

Barton said, "You have a lot more faith in Starfleet Command than I do."

Straw asked, "Why, Sterling? Why would you accept this? I can't imagine they made this an order, they had to have given you the chance to turn it down."

"Let me show you why." he nodded and Heather keyed the presentation they had watched in Captain Spruance's office three weeks ago. When it had finished, Thompson spoke for all of them,

"Jesus H. Christ."

"Make more sense now?" Sterling asked.

"Yeah. So what happens when the instructors get to The Badlands and we're already in Cardassian space?"

"Their orders put them in The Badlands the day we get back from the raid. The freighters will go their own way once we're back in Federation space and they don't need cover any more. They'll think we're all ready for a full day of exercises in very challenging space."

Barton was still looking at that last horrible image on the view screen. "We're going to need a lot of paint."

Straw said, "What?"

"We're supposed to make all the ships involved look like mercenary or pirate ships. I'll do the lines on the birds, but there's no way I'm painting an entire frigate."

Thompson laughed and Sterling said, "Lines? What are you going to paint? I thought we'd just blotch them up, cover the registration numbers and..."

She said, "My birds are not going into real combat looking bad. I'll line them out to match the pilot and my guys will paint by numbers."

Straw said, "We don't have enough time for fancy paint-jobs on the _Archer_. We'll just blank the registration numbers. Maybe they'll think we're surplus..."

As the briefing broke up, Thompson walked back to his bridge with Straw. "Now we know why they loaded real torpedoes."

"It's just a patrol ship." she answered.

"And we're a 50 year-old frigate with a crew of cadets."

"The _best_ crew of cadets, Captain."

He grinned back at her. "God, please don't let me screw this up."


	13. Chapter 12

_**CHAPTER 12**_

"_It doesn't take a hero to order men into battle. It takes a hero to be one of those men who goes into battle."_

_- Gen __Norman Schwarzkopf__ – Earth (Human)_

FREE TRADER THORN, THE BADLANDS, NEAR THE CARDASSIAN-FEDERATION BORDER

MARCH, 2292

Lilac thought that the little Frenchman in his ridiculous little white hat cut a rather comical figure. The antique cut of his uniform and the swagger with which the man did everything was actually rather annoying, but he evidently knew his business. The mercenary company that employed him enjoyed a very good reputation, although they also had a history of taking heavy casualties. No doubt a side effect of their tendency to take on hopeless tasks; hopeless tasks they seemed to succeed at regularly however.

For his part, Major Henri Zinn couldn't care less. The uniform had a distinctive style and helped to instill the esprit de corps that his company was famous for. The attitude came at the price of many battlefield victories against heavy odds and from having survived dozens of battles before he rose to command; No mean feat in the age of energy weapons. Their current job was rather simple. A small raid against a sleepy outpost, load up as many civilians as possible in as short a time as possible and exfiltrate. The job was well within the capabilities of his detachment and he hoped to escape with as close to no casualties as possible.

Besides, the money was good. The contract had been negotiated in Denmark back on Earth, which was why his detachment got the call since they were based out of Castelnaudary, France. They were the only detachment based on Earth, so they were a natural pick. But since the contracts had been signed, they had been floating around on these damn freighters for almost two weeks and he was becoming bored. It was difficult to keep the troops' edge sharp when one couldn't do heavy training for so long.

He continued to stand, at ease, watching the view screen on the freighter's bridge. If nothing else, it was amusing to irritate the Orion who commanded this ship.

Dejan couldn't stand it any longer. "Major, why does your company use such...antique weapons and ancient uniforms?"

Zinn smiled. "The uniforms provide distinction and esprit de corps, mon capitan." He turned to face the Trader. "We make it difficult to earn a job with our company, and have high expectations of those we contract to fight in our ranks. A distinctive uniform – and one with a proud history dating back many centuries – helps to drive that point home. As to the weapons, even a rock, properly employed, can still kill. It is not the weapon that is dangerous, but the man behind it.

"Most military forces today have lost their focus on tactics, on the proper employment and application of force. They simply..." he waved his hand and made a buzzing sound "and trust that everything before them will fall over. They are technicians, more used to pushing buttons than fighting.

But my men? They are experts and they are professionals. We utilize everything from our bare hands to rail guns, when the time and place are appropriate. We simply prefer to use firearms when we can. Everyone knows the high-pitched whine of a phaser or the scream of a rail gun or the ripping sound of a plasma rifle. But tell me, mon capitan, can you identify a silenced sub-machine gun when one fires? Or will you pause and wonder what it was instead of immediately returning fire?

I cannot tell you how many times we have completed our actions on a target before our opponents even knew they were under attack. Further, energy weapons have an annoying tendency to keep going until they hit something. Bullets are relatively short-ranged and don't over-penetrate when they do hit something. That can be vital when precision is required."

"So you do use modern equipment! I had heard that all of your gear was ancient."

Zinn smiled, "It does not hurt to encourage your enemies to underestimate you, mon capitan. We wear equipment that is appropriate to the job and that is covered in the contract. And speaking of our contract, when do our escorts arrive?"

Lilac glanced at a chronometer and then touched a control, it was his turn to smile. "I believe that is them at our maximum sensor range now, Major."

When the _Archer_ appeared on the view screen, her formerly pristine white paint blotched and spotted, some of the spot lights apparently burned out and generally looking like a disaster. Zinn asked, "_That_ is our escort? I was unaware any of that class were still in use anywhere except...ahhhh. Of course. Shall we go and meet our escort?"

A few minutes later, he and Dejan Lilac were in the freighter's recreation deck with Lilac's other two Captains, Zinn's XO and his Adjudant when Sterling, Heather, Thompson, and Straw walked in. All four were in civilian clothes. Lilac turned to Sterling and said, "Captain...?"

"Geoffrey Thorpe." And he smiled. As he was about to introduce the rest of his team with similarly fake names, Thompson interrupted,

"Yarr. An we be his pirate crew, arrrr." Straw stifled a giggle.

Lilac did not understand the reference and only looked confused, but Zinn chuckled and said, "You are the _USS Archer_, so you are Starfleet officers at the very least. Perhaps you would be so good as to give us your real names and ranks as I refuse to call you the Sea Hawk, although I approve of your cover as pirates."

Heather was stunned that anyone would pick up on an alias based on a three hundred and fifty year old entertainment. Sterling took his seat and said, "Senior Cadet Andrew Sterling, I am the raid commander. This is my XO, Senior Cadet Heather, the captain of the _Archer _is Senior Cadet Thompson, and his Chief Engineer, Senior Cadet Straw."

Lilac was horrified. "You are _students?!_"

Sterling looked calm as the rest of his team took their seats in the room. "Is there a problem, Captain Lilac?"

"We are about to undertake an armed raid in the Cardassian Union and Starfleet has sent us a crew of children playing pirate in a museum ship as our top cover? What about that is _not_ a problem?!"

Sterling gave him a withering look. "We have a perfectly maintained and functioning _Mustang_ class frigate, a full load-out of photon torpedoes, six of the best fighter pilots in the Federation flying the latest mark Viper, and a crew of willing, trained experts who know their ship inside and out. But if you would prefer to wait here until someone else comes along to deal with a single patrol ship and three fighters, we can leave."

Lilac thought that the latest mark Viper went out of front-line service in the Federation ten years ago, but wisely said nothing. Zinn studied the group of cadets. Part of his expertise was in assessing both enemies and allies. He and Sterling locked eyes for a few moments. Zinn finally nodded and said, "Mon capitan, I believe we can work with these people."

Lilac looked from the rock-hard Zinn in his antiquated Legionnaire's uniform to Sterling's young face. He said to Sterling, "You can guarantee the safety of my ships?"

Sterling looked him square in the eye. "As much as anyone can in combat, Captain. We will clear the way for you to land, protect you while you load up as many people as you can, and cover you on the way out and into Federation space, until you take your leave of us. I give you my word we will be there for you."

Lilac shook his head, "This goes against my better judgment. You have a mission brief for us, I hope? Something at least?"

Sterling ignored the jibe. "Heather?" he stood while Heather slid a data chip into her PADD. Thompson handed out other data chips to Lilac, Zinn, and their aides. He took a deep breath, calming his racing heart. "You have just been handed your OPORD and FRAGOs for this raid. Here is the overview of the operation, please feel free to interrupt with comments, questions, or suggestions."

A star chart appeared on the wall. "We will leave The Badlands at maximum warp – Captain, your freighters will set the pace as best they can. We will join the usual trade route here, just inside Federation space and approach Orias III in close-formation, with the _Archer_ in the sensor-shadow of your ships. You will note that the Cardassian patrol ship stationed at Orias III flies a polar orbit rather than the more usual equatorial orbit. Captain, you must time our orbital insertion so that as we enter sensor range, the patrol ship is just about to round the south pole. As soon as that ship crests the pole, the _Archer_ will begin jamming their sensor platforms and communications. The timing here is critical, you understand?

"We will launch all six fighters at that time, and they will proceed to drop into the planet's gravity well while the Cardassian is on the far side of the planet. Your freighters will follow as closely on the Viper's tails as you can. By the time the Cardassian comes back over the north pole, the _Archer_ will be in position to engage her and disable her while the fighters slip in unnoticed."

Straw was keeping the various images clocking along with Sterling's presentation, and paused with a diagram of a Cardassian base. "This is our best analysis of the layout of the camp that your sensor data covered, Captain. That data was rather sketchy as to the location of defenses, but we have filled in the blanks as best we can by utilizing what little we know of Cardassian standard procedures and common tactical sense.

"As soon as the _Archer_ engages the patrol ship, we anticipate them launching their fighters from wherever they are based; Here we have placed them at this camp, deducing that they would be located at their command center with the overall Commander, the man you identified as Legate Kai. Those fighters will be engaged and destroyed as they attempt to climb to aid the patrol ship.

"Your freighters will drop down to the planet surface, here, below their sensor horizon and hug the surface as closely as you are able. Those Vipers not engaged with the Cardassian fighters will be in the lead and will engage and destroy any ground defenses. Your sensors showed us one fixed air-defense phaser position here, one missile facility here, and what looks like a transport yard here. We anticipate there being between one and three mobile air defense phasers present there. We will be using the fighters' photon torpedoes to destroy these installations before they can be brought to bear, preferably within the first pass.

"As soon as you clear this range of hills here, you will set down in the camp itself here. From your notes and photos, you have indicated that these buildings are administrative and house only Cardassians. Feel free to crush them with your ships as landing space is a bit tight." he grinned and indicated Major Zinn. "At this point, your troops will disembark and neutralize any Cardassian ground forces and begin loading as many of the Oriaslings as you can.

"We have planned spending no more than two hours on the ground. By that time, other Cardassian facilities may be able to mount a rescue column. Our fighters will remain aloft and providing cover against such a possibility or against any other Cardassian resistance they may bring to bear while the _Archer_ remains in orbit as top cover. Once you have loaded your freighters, we will escort you back to Federation Space where you will go your own way and we can honestly say that we have no idea where you have gone with them.

"Complete details are in your files. Are there any questions or comments at this point?"

Heather was as proud as she had ever been. Sterling had given the briefing with a maturity and a power of personality that _she_ knew he had but he seemed to think that he lacked. That was _her _mate.

Zinn had been scanning through his files while Sterling gave the briefing. "A professional job, sir. Very thorough. Simple, straightforward, clean. I like simple. There are fewer things to go wrong."

Sterling smiled, "Thank you, Major. We were able to access Starfleet intelligence data and they indicate that there will be no Cardassian forces within three days of Orias III, so we should be long since back in Federation territory before they can even arrive there to see what has happened."

Lilac was still uncertain, but the plan seemed sound and the young human seemed confident and capable. And the money that was being provided by the Arcturian's patrons made the job worth the risk, even with losing the Cardassians as trade stops forever more. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as we return to the _Archer_, you set the pace, Captain and we'll follow right along. We should be there in 24 hours and back here in 50."

FEDERATION FRIGATE USS ARCHER, APPROACHING ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

MARCH, 2292

Thompson was trying not to stare at the aft end of the Orion freighter the _Archer_ was following. Even at no magnification, he was sure he could see the individual bolts holding her warp nacelles onto the hull. Cadet Gazi wasn't even blinking as his hands delicately caressed the helm controls. The tactical officer, Cadet Keita sang out, "We're a little far out, but she's just about to go under the pole, Captain!"

"Close enough." he told the man. "Tell the fighters to launch in sixty seconds and signal Lilac to follow them down, activate the ECM system on my mark." his heart was pounding. There would be no classroom analysis of his orders tonight. Either he would be dead or they would be. He had better get this right.

He watched the chronometer tick over slowly while the track of the Cardassian vessel was curving underneath Orias III, finally dropping off sensors behind the bulk of the planet. A few seconds later Keita said, "Fighters have all cleared the bay."

"Mark, mark, mark. Helm, course 315 mark 330, maximum impulse! Get us as low as you can and as close as you can to the pole, I want a shot at her engines before she even knows we're there. Weapons, ready phasers and arm the photon torpedoes, Defense, maximum shields and energize the defense grids. All hands, red alert!"

Heather sat in the cockpit of her Viper. Her gloves were in her lap and her mask was un-snapped from her helmet. She ran her hand along the cool metal of the canopy frame, looking closely at the fasteners and the paint, the instruments, the controls. She had never really paid attention to all the thousands of tiny details in this cramped box that had become so much of her world. There was a faint whine from the APUs, the gentle hiss of the life support system and the occasional chirp from the computer. Her eyes looked out the cockpit at the packed hangar bay in the frigate's aft hull. Sterling's fighter was in front of hers, her nose tucked under his port wing. With Barton's new paint job, it looked like a huge black and red demon was draping it's bat's wing over her. It surely did _not_ look like a Federation fighter.

She could just see his head and upper back through the canopy. She wished she could hold him again. Last night had ranged from passionate to gentle and everything in between but it didn't seem like enough. She wondered if Peggy and Mike felt the same way. She glanced over her shoulders, seeing Peggy's golden eagle tucked under her angel's starboard wing while Mike's red dragon crouched under Andy's starboard side and Inga's bright white Pegasus was mostly hidden on Mike's starboard side. Turning left, she saw Paavo's beautiful gryphon sheltering under her port wing. Those two hadn't anyone to turn to for comfort last night, no one to share their fears with. Her comm system came to life with Andy's voice.

"Five minutes. Final systems check and cross-check. Weapons systems to stand-by, double-check the safeties."

She snapped her mask back on her helmet, took a deep breath and then pulled her gloves back on. Her heart started to beat faster. She ran her checks and tapped a control on one of her displays. A few moments later her Viper started to broadcast her latest 'find'.

There was laughter across the comm channels and she heard Paavo say, "Wouldn't be a fight without her musty old music!"

Peggy asked, "What's this one, Heather?"

Smiling behind her mask she said, "I thought it fit – I found it before we even left. It's called 'Blood and Roses' by The Smithereens"

In his fighter, Andy just shook his head and smiled. The Dosadi always played music throughout their battles according to Rollin, but Starfleet preferred a more austere environment. He decided everyone needed the laugh right about now, and the familiar habit besides.

"Bay doors coming open. Ten seconds. Retarders to maximum. Throttles to 10%."

His com system sang to him:

3_I want to love but it comes out wrong  
I want to live but I don't belong  
I close my eyes and I see  
Blood and roses_

"A little macabre." he thought to himself. He looked up to the flight control booth and saw Barton give him a snappy salute. He returned her salute and the retarder fields released in three waves. A fast check showed all six Vipers spreading into a tight delta formation. "Stay on me...down we go." He pushed the stick forward and the Viper began arcing down into Orias III.

TAJOR WORK CAMP, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

MARCH, 2292

Fallon stumbled along at the end of the line of Oriaslings being marched out of the camp and around the back side. Kai had not given her any extra work or extra privileges for the last month, but she had found ways to make herself useful to her people, caring for the sick, or injured or sneaking food back from the fields when she could. Nine years-old now, she felt closer to ninety. She had begun to understand her people's philosophy much better though, simply accepting that which happened without a value judgment of good or bad. But she was so tired, and hungry and...There seemed little point to simply existing.

As they rounded another corner and came behind the administrative buildings, she thought she would be sent to the fields to work today. At least it was an overcast day, so it wouldn't be so hot. There was a slight drizzle, but not enough to be much of a bother. She might even be able so hide some extra food for the sick people. It was worth the risk of a beating. They never lasted long and she was strong. She had beaten the monster. No matter what he had tried, he couldn't make her be like him. She was better than him.

The guards turned the column into a large clearing and she realized with horror that she wasn't going to be working the fields today. Or any other day for that matter. There was a large piece of heavy equipment with a blade on it, a line of Cardassian soldiers, and a long trench in the ground. And _He_ was here. Much as she tried not to, she started to cry, the tears welling up in her eyes and slowly rolling down her cheeks. It wasn't fair.

FEDERATION FRIGATE USS ARCHER, MANEUVERING, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

MARCH, 2292

Keita shouted "Target!"

Thompson ordered, a little too loudly, "Lock on her engines and fire phasers!"

The small, Gatun-class patrol ship had caught a quick glimpse of Lilac's freighters coming into the system before she went under the pole, which was nothing unusual, but when their sensor platforms were jammed they quickly realized all was not well. She was running along at her best speed, weapons hot and shields up. Her captain was no fool.

Gul Rekta gave his own orders, "Evasive action! Fire forward phasers and missile batteries! What is that?!" A veteran Cardassian officer, he had volunteered for this post as a likely place to retire to, but in his youth he had commanded much larger warships. "Frigate!" he answered his own question, surprised as he recognized the old design from his younger days. "Close with them! Comm, send a distress signal to Central Command."

Back aboard the _Archer_, Thompson watched his phaser shot miss wide right as the little ship nimbly dodged and returned fire, two anti-ship missiles rocketing away from her hull "Fuck! How did you miss?! Evasive! Shoot those down!" The _Archer_ shuddered as the enemy phasers found their mark, damaging her forward shields.

Thompson felt like he was going to throw up as the missiles rapidly closed with the _Archer_. "Bobby, hit those fuckers!" and below decks in the phaser control room the two freshman cadets manning the forward point defenses tried like hell not to wet their pants, their first shots missing the rapidly closing missiles but finally scoring hits close enough that pieces of the weapons smashed into the _Archer's_ shields.

Back on the bridge, Thompson wasn't going to give the Cardassians another chance. "Lock on photon torpedoes and fire!" The weapons operator got a solid track on the little patrol ship as it charged in and fired the powerful weapons at point-blank range, just before the Cardassian was below minimum engagement range.

The main view screen went white as the patrol ship exploded, the _Archer_ rocking and groaning in the shock wave. Thompson sagged back in the command chair. They were supposed to disable the ship, not destroy it. He bit his lip. He had just killed...what, 20 Cardassians? Should he have used the phasers again? What if he had used only one torpedo? Should he have maneuvered more? The bridge was silent, except for people trying to get their breathing back under control.

Doran Turak was frustrated. He knew everyone in the unit assigned here at Orias III thought he was too by-the-book, or too young to know better, or that he was a snitch for the Obsidian Order. He wasn't, but he wouldn't mind having that chance either. There were rules for a reason. Everyone else liked to do things the easy way. He preferred to do things the _right_ way.

Which was why he was here, sitting in one of the prepared positions in his Gatling phaser air-defense truck all by himself. There was supposed to be a sensor operator and a gunner, but of course they had told him to piss off, preferring to stay indoors where it was warm. Did it matter that they weren't specifically ordered to drive a rotating patrol? Regulations called for such a patrol. So, as usual, he drove it himself.

He wished he knew how to operate the complex sensors that went with the powerful phasers, but he hadn't been trained for that yet. He knew how to use the optical system, but when would you ever use such a thing? Everyone used sensors. He sighed and climbed up in the gunner's position, running his hand over the big weapon. Regulations called for spending 30 minutes in each position before moving on to the next. There was no reason not to at least pretend he was a gunner while he waited. He unlocked the turret controls and slewed it left and right, tracking imaginary Klingons who were attacking Cardassia Prime.

Inga's voice came across the comm channel, interrupting Heather's play list, "Bandits, climbing, two o'clock low. Max range. Three bandits. Tally Ho!" her Viper banked right with Peggy's sliding across and falling in behind her starboard wing.

She said, "I've got your back, Inga."

Andy ordered, "Paavo, stick with them. Everyone else, with me, watch for air defenses. Lilac, down on the deck!" He watched as the freighters dropped like rocks, anxious to get as far away from the enemy fighters as possible.

Inga activated her ECM system and adjusted her scanners to improve her track on the incoming fighters. They were coming in fast, but not doing anything terribly interesting. "Head to head, come around left at max Q, weapons free. Paavo, angels high, right?"

She heard him chuckle and his Viper suddenly rocketed upwards, banking off to the left and rapidly disappearing into the cloud deck. Her helmet cuing system was showing the three Cardassian fighters closing, and a pair of missiles launched off the second fighter.

Peggy's voice came through her headset, "vampires twelve o'clock, boss."

"No lock; panic fire." The two missiles corkscrewed off below her, leaving a white vapor trail in the moisture-laden atmosphere. Seconds later, she and Peggy blew through the three Cardassian fighters , starting their turn even before they had completed the pass through. The enemy birds split up and she banked her Viper through as tight a left turn as the airframe would allow.

"Lock on...bird's away." came Peggy's voice and she glanced right to see the Dagger streak away from the golden-feather painted fighter. The second pilot had evidently elected to turn the wrong way and had cut almost directly across her path, an easy kill for an off-boresight shot. She shook her head and continued trying to get a lock on the enemy leader, Peggy's Viper staying close on her wing. She hardly even noticed the explosion falling away behind them as the other Cardassian split in two, tumbled, and then turned into a fireball.

The leader was proving a more difficult target however. He knew what he was doing with his bird, making full use of his jammers and shields. She had tagged him twice with phasers during the falling turning duel, but not solid enough to punch through.

"Boss, trailer coming in five o'clock low." Peggy called.

"Paavo." was all Inga said.

"On it."

"Peggy, slot left." she ordered.

"Wilco."

The enemy pilot, detecting Peggy's Viper sliding across Inga's tail, had to reverse his turn, executing a beautiful barrel roll into an diving right turn, trying to take advantage of his fighter's faster roll rate. Inga side-slipped her fighter wide, giving the Cardassian more distance in order to stay on his tail and using her thrusters to swing her own tail around in a skidding slide, stressing the airframe to its limits. As they banked, the second Cardassian was trying to stay in the Viper's blind spot, closing the range so he could get a solid shot in.

Checking her rear monitor, she saw the blinking warning sign that the enemy fighter was nearly within range and then she saw the streak of Paavo's tan and gold gryphon dropping out of the clouds like a bolt from Zeus, the phasers turning the enemy fighter into a black and red smudge that disappeared behind them in seconds, Paavo's ship continuing it's dive through the smoke.

A moment later, there was a growling buzz in her ear piece and she said, "Solid lock. Bird's away." The Dagger streaked outwards, the enemy pilot desperately trying to evade, but to no avail, the missile exploding near his right wing-root. The damaged shields were unable to deflect the energy and the fighter began to come apart. As they flew past the cartwheeling enemy fighter, Inga saw him eject; Something she never thought she would see. In the Academy you were just 'dead' and had to return to base.

"Form up, head back to the objective, full throttle, watch for ground fire." she ordered, thinking that she had just scored her first kill. She hoped the enemy pilot would be OK. He flew pretty well.

Legate Kai was enjoying the morning. The clouds and drizzle made it cooler than he'd like, but at least the light wasn't as bright and it was pleasantly humid for once. His troops had been making good progress on clearing out the infestation of these stupid little creatures and had nearly finished the preparations for the Cardassian Outpost that would be here by year's end.

He had decided that today they would start clearing out this camp as well, part of consolidating the system as the population reduced. They were so _stupid_. He had finally given up on trying to make any progress on teaching little Fallon how the world actually worked. The little thing seemed to have no concept of good, or bad, beyond what related to food or pain. He had been so sure they could be taught. Ah well, it had been an amusing game while he was stuck in this dreary job. Today he'd end that particular experiment and begin making real progress. It would not do for the Obsidian Order to decide that he was not accomplishing their goals.

He watched them shuffle into the field, his troopers cuffing them into lines. It was amazing the mess it made having to get rid of this many animals. Not done properly, it would be a serious health hazard for the incoming colonists. He pulled his gloves on and walked to the end of the line of troopers on his side of the trench. Ah, there was little Fallon. He was a good master and would put his own pet down.

Drawing his side arm he ordered, "Take aim." and was startled by a sudden explosion behind him, on the far side of camp. There were several more in rapid succession and he said, "What is going on here?"

Andy's fighter was screaming through the thick air, his sensors scanning for the sensor emissions that would identify the air defenses he knew had to be there. Several symbols appeared on his face plate and he locked his torpedo onto the closest, a missile launcher that was even now searching for his birds. "Heather, phaser site eleven o'clock, Malloy, vehicle park two o'clock, go, go, go!" Lilac's freighters were coming in fast and already settling down in the camp although it looked like one was coming down beside it. Things were going very well so far, assuming Inga's group had taken care of the three fighters.

He throttled back and gave his tracking system another few moments to stabilize on the missile site in front of him. His sensors clearly showed the launcher slewing towards him while it's sensors tried to burn through the jamming his Viper was putting out. As soon as the pipper turned green, he gently pressed the button on his right side-stick and the little ship bucked as the heavy photon torpedo streaked into the distance. A missile leapt off one of the rails and streaked into the sky. He immediately banked right and dropped as low as he could, the missile going wildly into the sky. There was a blinding flash as his torpedo exploded followed by another shattering series of detonations. "Hit!" he thought and grinned to himself. He went back to scanning for mobile launchers or phasers or any other threat.

Meanwhile, Mike thought to himself "What a cake walk." The open lot was full of several types of vehicles, some of which were clearly air defense vehicles. "Stupid place to park those. Not much use to anyone." He fired his torpedo and didn't even bother to change course as the yard vanished in an instant. He curved his fighter around, scanning the ground as he headed back to escort Lilac's freighters in. Nothing else to do. At least Peggy got to have a dog-fight. He had no doubt that she was fine. That woman could _fly_. She could do other things really well too, he smiled at the thought.

Heather rolled level, flashed over one of Lilac's freighters – they were early, she thought, chopped her throttle and lined up her shot. The high-power Gatling phaser mount in front of her bird was facing the wrong way and had no chance to engage her, although she could see it rotating as its crew frantically tried to bring their weapon to bear. She fired her torpedo and watched it disintegrate and then looked across the camp, her fighter moving relatively slowly. There was a line of Cardassian troops near where one of Lilac's freighters was settling down; evidently the pilot didn't see them, or didn't care. She lowered the nose of her Viper, her altitude dropping alarmingly. She pressed the trigger, the phasers spitting green energy into the line of men and she pulled up and away, increasing her thrust while she went to look for more targets.

Fallon jumped when the first explosion went off. What were they doing now? Were they blowing everyone up? Wasn't it fast enough to just shoot them? She saw Kai turn and heard him yell something. Maybe this wasn't something the Cardassians were doing. There was a ripping noise over her and she looked up to see an angel drop out of the sky and shoot the Cardassians. She was too stunned to move as the explosions ripped through their line and several fired their weapons into the sky, having no effect at all on the angel.

The angel screamed off over the trees. She knew it was a ship of some kind. One that wasn't Cardassian. But whatever it was, what it looked like even with the funny skin color, what it _was,_ was an angel. The others were running, trying to hide, she should too. Instead, she looked at the monster. He looked at her.

Kai knew someone was trying to 'save' the little creatures. Clearly then, the way to foil their plan was to kill them now. He could see two big ships – LILAC! Settling down on the camp, crushing his office and communications equipment. He was out of the fight – he would have to rely on his men to carry the day. But he could make their raid a failure. He yelled at his men "SHOOT THEM!" and turned to do the same. He saw little Fallon was too stupid even to run. He smiled and raised his phaser. "Good bye, Fallon."

Her eyes got big as she saw the phaser point at her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't. She didn't want to die. She closed her eyes and let the roar wash over her.

Major Zinn had his mean stacked by the rear cargo doors. The doors, slow at the best of times, were already open. The wind of the ship's movement through the air was sucking the rain into the hold and soaking everyone and blowing their camouflaged clothing around. It didn't matter, they would dry.

He watched the trees coming up on either side of the sinking freighter and he raised his Thompson sub-machine gun. As commander, he would be the first out the doors. The five four-man stacks with him raised various remakes of ancient slug-throwing weapons and got ready to move and move with a purpose as soon as the ship grounded.

Everyone crouched, bending their knees to absorb the shock of landing. Seconds later, the ship hit the ground and he and his men charged out of the open doors. About 50 meters directly in front of him was a line of Cardassian troops. Some had weapons pointing to the sky, some to his left, some were on the ground. He aimed his Thompson and let loose at the Cardassian nearest him, watching as the burst of three nearly half-inch bullets stitched up the man's left side in a roar, knocking him to the ground.

Cardassian's normal uniforms provided some protection against energy weapons, but none whatsoever against high-velocity chunks of metal, he thought with a grin, moving on to engage the rest of the enemy line who were completely confused and disorganized. He and his men made short work of them.

When the first explosions went off, Turak nearly jumped out of the truck. In seconds he knew that their base was under attack. A real attack. He saw the transport yard explode and knew that the other gunners had gone with it. He was the only one left. And then he saw one of the enemy fighters rising slowly up out of the trees almost directly in front of him. It was painted like a human with big white wings. He slewed his sight to the right, trying to get the weapon to bear.

The fighter banked to the side, presenting a beautiful profile of the image painted on the fuselage and for just a fraction of a second it hovered nearly motionless in his optic. Terrified, he jerked the trigger and screamed at the horribly loud whine of the Gatling phaser in his ear and watched the image in his sight vanish in a brilliant green glare and puff of white. When he opened his eyes again, there was nothing in his optic but grey sky.


	14. Chapter 13

_**CHAPTER 13**_

"Well, I think we tried very hard not to be overconfident, because when you get overconfident, that's when something snaps up and bites you."

_- _Neil Armstrong – Earth (Human)

TAJOR WORK CAMP, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

MARCH, 2292

The roaring sound kept happening, so Fallon opened her eyes. She wasn't dead? She saw the Cardassians spinning around and falling over, blood spraying out of them in time to the horrible tearing roaring sounds. There were strange people running towards them; Hardly any two looked alike, but they were all wearing the same ugly splotchy clothing, floppy hats with a shiny pin on them and the same sort of boots. They were carrying the strangest guns that she had ever seen and instead of beams of light, they spat fire and smoke and they were terribly loud.

One of them came over and knelt down by her. She just stared at the little pin on his funny green hat – it was a circle around an angel's wing, with a hand holding a sword.

Major Zinn finished his drive through the line of Cardassians. The other four squads had split up, per the plan, and were sweeping into the camp, searching for any other troops. He made another pass back down the line, putting another burst into one trooper who seemed a little too healthy yet. Changing magazines on the Thompson, he bellowed to his men in gutter French, "Round them up and start loading them in the freighter! Remember, it's not optional. The clock is ticking."

Nimbly jumping over the trench he knelt down by a tiny little thing and said, "Bébé, allez dans le navire maintenant." She didn't move, simply staring at him with her big black eyes wide and her mouth open. Standing up again, he forcibly spun her around and pushed her towards the ship, following it up with a gentle boot to the bottom. She finally got the idea and ran towards the cavernous freighter. He took his beret off and wiped his brow. Scanning the field with satisfaction, he put the hat back on, pulled out his PADD and checked on his men's progress. He waved one of his Nausicaan squad leaders over; The man was truly a fright – over two meters tall with tusks and carrying a fully automatic 12 gauge shotgun, the mere sight of him was enough to cause death, he thought. Time to get back to work.

Inga was leading her flight to the Cardassian compound as fast as they could go. She could see the freighters on the ground and several columns of smoke rising from the defensive positions, so it looked like everything was going according to plan. Heather's Viper climbed up and began a wing-over turn, the angel paint job showing clearly in her enhanced visuals. Barton had done a phenomenal job. Then she saw a Gatling phaser open up from a small clearing. There was a flash of white, a cloud of smoke and the Viper spiraled frightfully fast, it's trajectory taking it up in a ballistic arc; She screamed "HEATHER!". She felt her blood go ice cold and thumbed the arming button on her photon torpedo saying, "He's mine. Split up and look for any more of the little bastards."

Turak couldn't believe it. He had hit it! He shot down the enemy fighter! There was a hint of motion out of his left eye and he turned his head. There were three more! One of them was coming straight at him terribly fast – it wasn't even making any sound. In an instant he knew he had no time to slew the Gatling mount around. Terrified he simply jumped out of the turret and fled, a stream of urine running down his leg. He had barely made it the few meters to the trees when his world dissolved in a blinding white light and a roar.

Heather struggled to stabilize her fighter. The inertial dampeners kept the rotation from banging her around too much, but her helmet had smacked into the canopy bow anyways. The instruments were spinning wildly, and the canopy was a green and grey blur. The roll rate dropped as she struggled and she heard the computer warning "Pull Up! Pull Up!" A moment later she brought the ship level, but inverted and saw the ground rising up above her. Jamming the right side-stick fully forward, the nose of the Viper swung back to the sky, while still trying to roll and yaw to the right.

She stamped on the rudder pedals and rotated the throttle as much as she dared, involuntarily ducking as the Viper slammed through the tops of some trees. The shields were gone, but the duranium fuselage shredded them and sprayed branches everywhere. Finally getting some altitude, she let the craft roll to the right and leveled out, racing away from the Cardassian camp, trying to assess the damage to her bird.

It suddenly dawned on her that there were several voices calling her name on the comm system. "I'm OK. I'm hit, but I'm OK."

Sterling's voice drowned out the rest. As Raid Commander, his transmissions took priority in the computer. "How bad is it? You're trailing a lot of vapor from your right wing."

She banked gently back towards the rest of the squadron who were systematically shooting the hell out of every clearing they could find, just in case. "Looks like I lost a chunk of my starboard wing-tip and there's a hole in the same wing. Shields are gone. Primary coolant system and Primary hydraulics both losing pressure. She wants to roll right. I'm OK. No need to abort. Still mission capable."

There was a long silence. "Keep some altitude. Once they load up, you Paavo and Inga take lead on escorting the freighters. The rest of us will bring up the rear."

For the next hour and a half, they flew lazy circles over the camp, watching Zinn's Legionnaires herding long lines of Oriaslings into the freighters. It was apparent they were not being terribly gentle about it, using boots and shoves to encourage the little people to move faster. Heather wondered what it would be like to be one of those left behind as the freighters began closing their cargo doors. How horrible must it be to see salvation literally right in front of you and then have it snatched away.

At least her fighter was holding together though. She continued juggling systems to keep it that way and that took her mind off of the plight of those abandoned on the surface. It helped even more when Andy's confident voice came through her headset, "All right. Up we go. As soon as we clear atmosphere, recover on the _Archer_ and let's get out of here. Heather, if you can't land safely on the _Archer_, you should be able to fit on one of the freighters and we'll transport you over. We've got this nailed, people. Well done."

Heather felt a surge of pride. They had done it. They hadn't rescued all of them, but there were _thousands_ inside the big ships. She patted the instrument panel. "Good job, little bird. Now just get me home." She checked the tactical display and saw that the _Archer_ would be on the far side of the planet when they cleared atmosphere. They'd have to match orbits with her, but it wouldn't take long. Already the surface of Orias III was lost underneath the cloud deck. They had done it.

FEDERATION FRIGATE USS ARCHER, MANEUVERING, ORIAS III, CARDASSIAN UNION

MARCH, 2292

Thompson finally allowed himself to relax. For the last ninety minutes he had been continually re-assessing his commands during the battle with the patrol ship, wondering what he should have done differently. But now, Lilac's freighters were lifting off the surface and all six fighters were right along with them. All they had to do was round the planet, load them up and then fly home.

Keita's console beeped and he touched a control. His dark black face blanched nearly white and he shouted "CARDASSIAN CRUISER DEAD ASTERN!"

"What? That's not..." the screen over Keita's station showed the terrifying image of a Cardassian heavy cruiser that had just dropped out of warp.

"Helm! Full ahead! Full shields! Comm, call Sterling!"

"They're jamming us!"

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he fumbled with the buttons on the command chair, "Straw! You gotta get us more power. We need everything..." the _Archer_ vibrated slightly from a long-range hit from the cruiser's main battery.

"What the hell? I thought we were..."

"A god damn Cardassian cruiser just showed up!" For an instant, his mind flashed back to a test he had taken at the start of his senior year. It involved a disabled freighter that you went to help. And of course, it was a trap. Half a dozen Romulon warbirds suddenly surrounded your ship and destroyed it in minutes. A completely un-winnable set up that the instructors put together as a mind-fuck just to see if they could break you.

"We're on it, Captain!" came Straw's steady voice.

He thought for a few moments. Maybe not just to see if they could break you. The _Archer_ was streaking along in her orbit, engines straining to force her lower and faster, although the frigate had no chance of out-running or out-fighting the enemy cruiser. Maybe what the instructors had said was right, the _Kobayashi Maru_ test was to prepare you for that time when you simply couldn't win. So that instead of curling into a little ball and crying, you faced your fate like a man, on your feet and fighting to the last ounce of strength.

Thompson sat back in his chair and looked around his bridge. There were nearly a hundred cadets on board ranging in age from 17 to his own elderly 22. They were counting on him. Well, he decided, he couldn't get them home again, but he could at least make their last moments something to be proud of. Besides, what was that stupid slogan old Professor Popski was always spouting off in Military History? 'Who Dares, Wins.'

Cadet McKenzie, a 17 year-old New Zealander spun his chair around "We can surrender!"

Thompson gave him a withering stare. "Shut the fuck up, McKenzie." The bridge was nearly silent except for the pinging of the sensor sweep and the occasional whir from the computer.

"No! I'm serious! We don't have to die! All we have to do is..."

Cadet Captain James Moses Thompson stood up, his expression silencing the panicked young man. He walked the two steps to his chair and said quietly, "Cadet, you will close your mouth and man your station. The _USS Archer_ will not surrender, ever." He stood up straight and spoke to his bridge crew. "We are going to unfuck this situation and complete this mission. Is that understood?"

There was a chorus of "Yes, sirs!", some with more conviction than others. The ship vibrated again from another glancing phaser hit on the shields.

"We've got six of the most bad-ass fighter pilots in the galaxy on the other side of the planet. We are going to lead this fat fuck directly into their guns and then we are going to help them cut that pig into bacon bits! Are there any _questions_ about that?"

Stronger now, "No, sir!"

"Weapons, target aft phasers on their port nacelle. As soon as they're in range, begin firing as often as you can. Just keep shooting that same damn nacelle. Nothing else. Let's cut them down to size a bit before we let Sterling and his crew have them. Fire photon torpedoes from the aft launcher whenever you can get a lock. In fact, fire one now just to remind them that we are no one to fuck with!"

"Yes, SIR!"

He moved back to his chair and sat down again. If he was going to die, he was at least going to go with some style. He said quietly, "Yarr. Avast ye scurvy dogs." There were even a few chuckles around the bridge as the photon torpedo streaked away from the _Archer_. Since it had no lock on anything, it flew harmlessly past the Cardassian ship, but it made everyone feel better anyway.

Gul Kordat, in command of the Cardassian cruiser _Vetor, _watched the enemy vessel attempt to run. It had been fortunate that he was bringing a member of the Obsidian Order to Orias III when the distress signal arrived. They were close enough to respond in time.

His tactical officer spoke, "Gul Kordat, the enemy vessel is a _Mustang_ class frigate. Federation design, but it has not been in service for many years. No registration markings and it appears to be in poor repair."

"An easy kill." he smiled. "Engage at maximum range. Let's let them know their fate is at hand. Jam their comm systems, don't let them talk to any friends they might have. Continue to scan for enemy vessels."

"Yes, sir. Sir, they are also jamming, sensors are seriously degraded."

The pursuit continued for a little while. The Gul watched as the little ship fired a photon torpedo at his ship, but without a lock on. Were they that terrified of death? Perhaps he should offer them the chance to surrender. Phagh. They were worms.

Sterling was plotting the course that would bring them to the _Archer_ the fastest when his tactical plots went white. "What the hell?" he thought. He keyed his comm system and said, "Anyone else just lose their plot?"

Instead of the answer he expected, the computer answered, "Communications failure. Frequencies are being jammed."

Jamming? Why the hell were they...His heart sunk. If there was jamming, that meant another enemy vessel had showed up. And it also meant it had more power than the _Archer_. He reviewed the status of his squadron. They needed heavy weapons, and they needed to cover the freighters, and he needed to communicate, and then go attack whatever had just showed up. And they were all low on power.

He waggled his wings and dropped even with Lynd and Malloy. Using hand signals he ordered Lynd to take his right wing and Malloy to stay on the freighters. Then he surged forward, using the same system to have Puurunen take his left wing while Inga stayed with Heather. The three of them increased power, climbing away from the rising freighters.

"Hull breach deck seven, casualties reported. Shields failing all over the ship, main deflector damaged, point defense phasers port-side destroyed, main security destroyed, hull breach sealed..." The _Archer_ rang again from another hit by the Cardassians, interrupting Cadet 'Jerky' Jerkowicz's report.

Thompson ordered, "Keep firing at that port nacelle! C'mon, get me another couple of torpedo hits and we can finish this fucker off. Jerky, all I care about right now is engines, shields, and weapons. If they're broke, fix them and fast." he leaned forward in his small bridge, "Gazi, you can do better than that! Make her dance!"

Another torpedo launched out of the _Archer's_ aft end, and the bridge crew erupted in cheers as they saw it impact on the enemy vessel, followed by a bracket of phasers slicing across her port nacelle. Gazi did better, the tired old frigate seeming to remember her glory days and dodging like a skier on a slalom course.

But a cruiser is designed to take heavy damage, and has many more weapons systems than a frigate. As Thompson was about to congratulate Gazi for dodging the last several shots, the _Archer _shook from stem to stern when a shot pierced their shattered shields, hitting her directly in Engineering. The lights on the bridge went dark.

Down in Engineering, the main regulators had taken a hit, radioactive coolant was flooding the compartment and several fires were burning. Two cadets were already dead, scalded to death in an instant. When the radiation alarms began to howl, the rest started to run for the exits. The isolation doors were coming down to protect the rest of the ship. Cadet Chief Engineer Suzy Straw, nicknamed 'Mother' by her engineers, shouted over the alarms, the hissing of the coolant and the screams of injured cadets, finding a volume in her voice she never knew she had. "STOP RIGHT THERE!" She threw the spanner she had been holding into the bulkhead where the door was coming down and the first few cadets skidded to a stop, surprised. Mother never yelled.

"Get back to your posts! They need us _here _or we're _all_ going to die! Billy, break out the rad suits, everyone suit up as fast as you can while you work. It's not bad – trust me! Saeed, get those hull plates out of the damage control locker and set up a shielded area by the main vents. Sally, help me! I need you guys!" and she ran into the heart of Engineering to try to bring the main engines back under control and restore the power distribution system.

The older cadets turned and started back into the smoky, radioactive hell that was Engineering, grabbing the terrified freshmen and sophomores as they ran. Seconds later, the isolation doors came down, sealing off the contaminated section and 18 cadets from the rest of the _USS Archer_.

On the bridge, Cadet McKenzie had found his courage, or at least a loyalty to Thompson. Manning the Environmental station he reported, "Main power back online, Captain! Engineering flooded with radiation and sealed off." Realizing that someone must be down there for power to be restored, he worked at his console for a moment, setting up a high-speed air cycle to continually flush the space and try to give whoever was alive a chance. It didn't look like they had to worry about running out of air anyway.

There was another terrible roar as the _Vetor's _main phaser banks scored a direct hit on the photon torpedo bay, instantly killing the ten cadets who were struggling to load another of the heavy weapons into the aft launcher and ready it to fire. Ten more stories had come to a sudden end.

The _Archer_ fired back, her phasers again scoring hits on the _Vetor's_ port nacelle.

Kordat watched another volley from his main phasers miss the wildly maneuvering little frigate now trailing fire and smoke and cursed at his bridge crew. "Are you blind? Why is this pathetic little frigate not destr..." the _Vetor's_ gravity wavered heavily from the _Archer's_ latest shot. They were surely not the worms he had first considered them. "Fire, damn you all!"

Thompson opened his eyes. He had blacked out for a moment. The air in the bridge seemed thin and his chest hurt. Why wasn't anyone at their posts? He tried to breath deeply but it hurt. The bridge stations he could see were blasted and had evidently been on fire. He groaned and blinked to clear his vision; there was a hole in the forward bulkhead, he could see see the blue and white curve of Orias III rolling around through it. The force fields were holding at least. He wondered how much air had blown out. Why couldn't he move?

He heard a motion to his right and saw McKenzie picking himself up off the deck and returning to his post. He also saw what looked like a chunk of hull former sticking out of his lower right chest, pinning him to his chair. He coughed up some blood. Fuck. Where the _hell_ was Sterling? "McKenzie." He ordered, his voice hoarse, "Take the helm."

McKenzie stood up to do as he was ordered and sat back down again. Gazi's charcoal figure was still at his post. "Helm's destroyed, sir. So's navigation, tactical, engineering, and science. Looks like Auxiliary Control has everything but environmental. You're pretty fucked up, sir." His eyes were wide and terrified.

Thompson tried to laugh, but it came out as a gurgle. "You're supposed to tell me I'm fine, McKenzie, so clearly you don't know what you're talking about." McKenzie actually smiled at that. "Keep manning your station, Cadet. We'll kick their asses yet." Thompson fumbled for the comm button on his chair, locking it open. "Auxiliary control, this is Captain Thompson, get ready to bring us about. We're going to charge these assholes."

Sterling could see the Cardassian cruiser growing rapidly as their Vipers clawed for space. He didn't have to say anything to the two pilots on his wings. They were all low on energy. Only two of his birds had torpedoes left and no one had more than a couple of phaser shots available. But he could also see the _Archer_, clearly shot to shit and fighting for her life against the relatively giant cruiser.

The range numbers dropped rapidly, the cruiser taking no notice of them. At nearly the same moment, both Peggy and Puurunen fired their torpedoes, the cruiser starting to take evasive action too late. He watched both impact on the underside of the enemy ship, blowing chunks out of the hull.

A second later his computer informed him that enemy jamming had ceased and he thumbed the comm button, "Stay tight on me. Make what shots you have left count. Heather, any sign of any other ships?"

"Negative. We're trying to change course, we're coming straight up into that thing's guns."

"Roger. Peggy, Paavo, follow me in."

Aboard the _Vetor_, the tactical officer shouted, "Enemy fighters coming up under us!"

Kordat ordered, "Evasive! Point defenses, engage them immed..." and he was knocked to the deck as the two torpedoes struck his ship. Regaining his feet he asked, "How many? What types?"

"Six Federation Vipers and three freighters, climbing fast."

"Freighters? On screen!" His viewer showed a split screen, three fighters in outlandish paint jobs streaking in at him, dodging his defensive fire while another three equally outlandish looking fighters tried to run away, covering for three lumbering freighters as they left the planet's atmosphere behind them.

He took only a moment to make his decision. "Secondary batteries, continue to engage the frigate, main batteries, take out those freighters, point-defenses, you will destroy the fighters. Who in the hell flies ships that look like that?"

There was no answer to his question. The _Vetor_ began spitting death in all directions as phasers began to shoot at all ten of Sterling's ships.

Sterling fired again, watching the green beams score deeply into the Cardassian's hull. He hit at least one of the damnable Gatlings just before it would have been able to fire at Inga's strafing fighter. He glanced down at his power meters. He was about out of everything. He turned off the safety overrides and funneled life-support and engine power into the phaser capacitor as he spun away from the cruiser.

Paavo's voice came through his headset, "Sterling, I'm out, I'm not even sure I can make it to the _Archer_."

"Paavo, you're out, Malloy, we need you over here."

"With you." came the answer.

Inga said, "Sterling, I've got one shot left, maybe two."

"Stay with the freighters."

Peggy watched Mike's fighter spin at an angle and begin thrusting to turn his vector back towards the Cardassian. His Viper quickly raced away from the freighters, streaking towards the big cruiser. She took a final strafing run along the Cardassian's dorsal spine, her last shot a weak, low-energy blast that looked more like a flashlight than a phaser. "I'm empty, Sterling." she told him as she angled for the freighters.

Heather was struggling with her damaged Viper. The control inputs had gotten very sluggish and she had no shields, no weapons, nothing with which to be of any use to her friends. She watched Malloy's ship begin its attack run, the phasers firing as he closed with her bow. The big ship's shields finally collapsed and his next shot scored a direct hit on the obviously badly damaged port nacelle.

Horrified, she saw the multiple-green beams of a Gatling phaser leap up from the aft end of the Cardassian cruiser and the whole right side of the Viper vanished. There was an endless agonized scream over the comm channel and her last view of him was the red dragon scales sparkling in the light of Orias as the broken fighter spiraled down into the planet, leaving a braided column of smoke and plasma. It was only a second or two before the computer filtered out the horrible sound. It just seemed like an hour.

The _Archer_ was swinging around as well, pivoting so her bow was to the _Vetor_, her burning hull leaving a billowing trail spreading out behind her and masking the view of the Cardassian. The enemy cruiser hit the freighter under her again as well, destroying her shields and scoring light damage on the hull. Sterling's fighter pushed over and began another attack run.

Aboard the _Thorn_, the holds were packed full of terrified, confused Oriaslings. Major Zinn and his men had moved along the sides towards the freighter's shuttle bay, hoping to find some space there. When they came under attack, he had used this ship's computer to tie in to a universal translator. He attempted to explain what was happening and to calm the frightened little people down. Several hits on the _Thorn_ made it apparent that things were not at all going according to plan.

The _Thorn_ rattled and groaned and Zinn felt the gravity shift. He felt that odd crinkly sensation he always had when shields were raised or lowered and he knew that they were now defenseless. He turned to his XO, shook the Klingon outcast's hand and said, "It has been an honor, mes ami. More Majorum. _(ed: 'In the manner of our ancestors.')_, n'est ce pas?"

Fallon had also tried to find some breathing space and was standing near the little man who had shot Kai. When she had seen him she wanted to be nearer to him and had moved steadily along the walls until she was almost next to him. He wasn't speaking Cardassian, but she could understand him somehow. She asked, "Are we going to die now?"

Surprised, Zinn looked down. "Little one, it is OK. It won't hurt. Be brave."

There were several dull crunching and groaning sounds as something hit the back of the _Thorn_.

Thompson was losing more of his breath but at least the pain in his right side had faded to a dull pressure. "FIRE!" he said with all the energy he could muster. The battered _Archer_ fired her last phaser. He could hear it. With nothing much working on the bridge, he had to wait for the report from Auxiliary control. "A hit! Port side, nacelle mount."

"Let me know when we can fire again, Suzuki. Any contact with engineering?"

"None. They're gone...Captain! They hit her port nacelle again she's falling away! She's hurt _bad! _She's on fire amidships! They've lost power!"

"Get us the hell out of here, _NOW _while we still can. Get Sterling's birds aboard and get us out of here."

"Yes, sir!"

He sagged back in his chair and closed his eyes. Holy shit, this was fucked up.

Sterling dove onto the _Vetor _from behind, angling for her main phaser banks and her bridge. He tried not to feel anything at Mike's death, to focus on the job. The Cardassian fired again, helping him to pinpoint the emitters and he began to fire. She was obviously hurting, as she was rolling and yawing left after Malloy's last shots had taken out her port nacelle. He had to take out the phasers or she'd still be able to kill them all.

The energy level indicators were blinking red. This would have to be his last shot. He caressed the trigger, watching only a single, weak green beam trace into the back of the Cardassian's bridge. He made an aggressive turn to port, rolling up and over her spine when a young Cardassian gunner fired his phaser-3 directly into the rear of his port engine.

Sterling saw the hull come up and just had time to think 'Heather' before the nose of his Viper slammed through the primary hull of the cruiser, exploding almost instantly and severing the main power distribution networks on the enemy ship, leaving her burning and adrift.

It was a series of images that Heather would take to her grave. Mike's braided plume of fire fading away into the distance and Andy's Viper diving down onto the cruiser, his shots scoring solid hits and then a flash of bluish light reaching up to smash him from the sky, the demon-painted fuselage disappearing into the Cardassian's hull before the middle of the ship was obscured by an explosion.

The enemy cruiser falling away to the left, her right side coming into view. Peggy's fighter closing fast on the _Thorn_ and her computer showing an enemy weapons lock on the damaged freighter. Instantly, Peggy's Viper slid down between the two and a thick green line reached up from the ship's right side and slammed into the little craft. The eagle painted on her fighter seemed to take fire, glowing brightly for an instant before it blew up, the debris smashing into the _Thorn's_ aft hull.

In seconds, they were out of range of the crippled cruiser, running as fast as they could.

Heather finally responded to the voices in her ear. Numb, she said, "We need to recover before we're totally out of power. Nova two to _Archer, _can we land?"

There was no answer and she tried again before they responded. "Nova two, we don't know. We're trying to find out. Wait one." It wasn't Thompson's voice.

She looked at the frigate. There was a hole where one of the hangar bay doors used to be. "Negative, _Archer_. Bay doors look like they took a hit." Numbly, she realized that Barton and their maintenance teams were likely gone. "We'll have to recover on the freighters. Nova flight, recover where you can. Get a charge if they can supply power, we might have to do this again if they catch us. As soon as we can, let's get to the _Archer_. We need to get into warp as soon as we can. _Archer_, once we're recovered on the freighters, can we do a warp jump anywhere and repair what we need to get back to the Federation?"

There was a hollow laugh, "Believe it or not, we've still got warp power. I have no idea how. Engineering's gone. Haven't heard a word from them for a while. Bridge is gone too. Everything's gone."

She ran out of power while she maneuvered for the _Thorn's_ shuttle bay. Fortunately, freighters – especially Free Traders – make a lot of use of tractor beams and they were able to recover her while the other two ships took in Paavo and Inga.

She pushed her canopy up, got out of the cockpit and stood motionless in the tiny space for a moment before doubling over and throwing up repeatedly. She was still on her knees when Zinn came in. He avoided the spreading pool of vomit and helped her to her feet. He still remembered what it was like, that first time in combat. He wondered what had gone on outside; but clearly this strange-looking young woman needed to see that what she had done had been worthwhile. He pulled out his handkerchief – an affectation that went with the uniform – and wiped her mouth for her.

Taking her hand, he gently guided her into the cargo hold, stepping around Fallon, who had followed him in. She was staring at Heather's fighter and the helmet still on her head. Zinn got her into the hold and said, "You must see what you have done, mademoiselle Heather. The many thousands you have saved."

Her eyes still wide and her mind numb, she scanned the mass of little people without seeing them. She looked up at Zinn. "He's dead. He blew up. He's dead." She wasn't even blinking.

They heard a piping little voice and heard Fallon ask, "Who was he?"

Heather crouched down by the little girl. She tried for a moment to explain her mate, the best friend she had ever had, the person who made life worth living, who made flying everything, who sang with her, who held her, who...

Instead, she started to sing. The people in the hold rapidly fell silent as her voice began to carry.

"_The minstrel boy to the war is gone,  
In the ranks of death ye will find him;  
His father's sword he hath girded on,  
And his wild harp slung behind him;  
'Land of Song!' said the warrior bard,  
'Tho' all the world betray thee,  
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,  
One faithful harp shall praise thee!'_

She couldn't finish. She began to sob, pulling Fallon to her and squeezing her tightly. And then she heard Zinn, his French accent and baritone a complete contrast to her own voice. He was quickly joined by several of his men, some of whom were injured.

_The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain  
Could not bring his proud soul under;  
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again,  
For he tore its chords asunder;  
And said 'No chains shall sully thee,  
Thou soul of love and bravery!  
Thy songs were made for the pure and free  
They shall never sound in slavery!_


	15. Chapter 14

_**CHAPTER 14**_

"nIteb SuvnIS DevwI'." (A leader must stand alone.)

- Klingon Proverb

FEDERATION TRANSPORT USS AMSTERDAM, THE BADLANDS, NEAR THE CARDASSIAN-FEDERATION BORDER

MARCH, 2292

Lieutenant Commander Raul Grijalva was alternating between worried and furious. The _USS Archer_ was now almost 12 hours overdue for the most unusual set of mid-term exams he had ever heard of. Why the Commandant had pulled all the instructors off the vessel and allowed an all-cadet team to fly her to this particularly dangerous region of space he did not know.

And now they were late. Either they had gotten lost, or become damaged or were simply screwing off. The annunciator sounded, "Lieutenant Commander Grijalva to the bridge." FINALLY! He thought, hurrying to get to the bridge. When he arrived, he wondered what had happened. Everyone was tight-lipped and white-faced. He glanced up at the image of the _Archer_ and then did a double-take.

"Mother of GOD!" he said, as he took in the extent of the damage showing on her hull. "That's battle damage! What happened?!"

"We don't have communications yet, Commander." the _Amsterdam's_ captain said. They all waited in silence as the range closed. Time dragged on as they waited. Finally the viewer wavered to life, showing the Auxiliary Control post of the old frigate. Facing him were a young male sophomore he recognized as Cadet Suzuki and the rather infamous half-Dosadi female senior, Cadet Heather.

Breaching protocol he immediately demanded, "Cadet Heather, what happened?! Where is Cadet Thompson?"

Heather's fur was burned, oil-smeared, and matted. Her uniform was a disaster. Her voice sounded rather mechanical. "Sir, you and the rest of the instructors need to beam over and I can explain in person. We need damage control help, power, and medical aid immediately sirs. Our transporters are gone, the situation is critical. Send us everything you've got. I need to get back to work, sir." And she cut the connection.

Grijalva was stunned. "Captain? Can you..."

"Absolutely. Get moving, Raul. That looks very, very bad." And he began issuing orders to his crew.

Grijalva was talking almost before he finished materializing in the burned-out transporter room. "Where is Heather? I want a status repor..." There was no one there. The doors were jammed half open. He and the Engineering instructor, Lieutenant Commander Gordon stepped into the hallway as the next group of teachers started to materialize.

Gordon said, "Jesus, Raul. I'm getting to Engineering. Let me know what you find on the Bridge." and he began to trot off down the corridor. He hadn't even gotten halfway there before he passed the first dead cadet, a young woman who's name he didn't know.

The turbo-lifts were down, so Grijalva had to climb through the access tunnels to get to the bridge. He pushed open the hatch, finally emerging into what had been the nerve center of the old frigate. The darkened space stank of smoke and feces and burned insulation and death. "Merciful God." There was no answer.

He saw Thompson, one of his all-time favorite students, with a chunk of tritanium pinning him to the command chair and a pool of dried blood on the floor. Thompson's hand was still on the control console. The various work stations were blasted, scorched, and blackened. Much of Cadet Keita was missing, but what he could see was very recognizable as the tall black man. Cadet Gazi's burned corpse was still poised as though he were steering the vessel. He had been one of the most promising helm students he had seen in several years. Grijalva shuddered, it was like the _Flying Dutchman_, a crew of the damned helmed by the dead.

There was a quiet beep from the Environmental station and he almost jumped out of his skin. "Hello? Who..." and he saw that the cadet manning that station was still alive, though injured. He quickly walked to him and dredged his memory for the name. Freshman...Kiwi..."McKenzie? What happened?" There was no answer, the cadet was totally focused on his console. Leaning over his shoulder he noticed that he was continually juggling life support controls, routing the majority of the remaining life support capacity to Engineering. "Cadet? Cadet! Report!"

He didn't take his eyes off the readings but finally answered, "Yes, sir! Cadet Ian McKenzie, manning my post, sir!"

"Cadet, what happened here? What are you doing?"

"Sir, there must still be people in Engineering. We still have power. I am attempting to remove the radiation contamination from the space so that they have a chance. I will not abandon my post. The Captain's orders, sir."

Grijalva stood upright again, the cadet going back to ignoring him. There was a hole in the forward bulkhead – he could see open space through it. What in heaven's name had happened to them?

Gordon came running up to what had been the entrance to the main Engineering spaces. There was a crew of cadets, including Heather, moving debris and trying to cut through the massive isolation doors. If those were down, it meant a disaster on the other side. "Cadets! Stop what you are doing!"

Heather straightened up, bleeding from a cut on her arm, and said "No sir, we will not. There are still crewmen alive in there."

He was horrified. "You have communications?"

"No sir, but we have power and they've been managing that power for the last 14 hours. They have to be alive."

"How close to getting through are you?" He stepped through the debris to the cadet with the plasma torch. "Almost there, sir."

"Cadet Donnely. Watch the jacket on that torch – you're running it too cold. Here." he made an adjustment and the color changed slightly. "Cadet Heather, clear all but four people out of here." he glanced again at the radiation alarms. "When this bulkhead goes, it's going to contaminate everyone and everything out here. We'll evacuate to the next isolation door and seal it off there."

"Yes, sir." Exhausted, she moved to follow his orders. Fifteen minutes later there was a tremendously loud crash as the heavy bulkhead fell inward. She looked up and saw a line of cadets in filthy radiation suits come streaming out of the engineering spaces, many obviously wounded or suffering from radiation sickness. More radiation alarms were sounding. She counted eighteen of the twenty crew she knew were assigned there, and the last out was Cadet Chief Engineer Suzy 'Mother' Straw. She stumbled and Heather caught her, the two women staggering down the corridor.

Gordon stepped into Main Engineering. There were two bodies by the jury-rigged mains and what looked like a set of hull plates welded into baffles clustered around the main air vent. He could feel high pressure air streaming out of it. They had set up a shielded area and arranged to have positive pressure air to scrub out all the radiation they could. Must have been handling their duties in shifts. Damn, that was fast thinking, he thought to himself.

Wasting no time, he evacuated the ruined spaces himself.

An hour later, Grijalva, Gordon and the rest of the instructors, with assistance from the crew of the _Amsterdam,_ had things mostly under control and the scope of the disaster was becoming apparent. There were almost 40 of the frigate's crew of 85 either dead or missing and very few who were not wounded to some degree. They were finally able to take a few minutes to get a report.

Grijalva and Gordon were sitting in Auxiliary Control, trying to get more systems on-line when Heather and Straw finally reported. Both were filthy, wounded, and punch-drunk with exhaustion.

Grijalva asked, "What happened here?"

Heather spoke, "I alone am responsible, sir. I planned and led a rescue mission into Cardassian space. We were surprised by a Cardassian cruiser and took heavy casualties before we crippled her and escaped."

There was a shocked silence. Straw spoke up, "Starfleet planned this, sir."

Heather shook her head, "No, Cadet. We lied. Cadet Sterling and I wrote those orders ourselves."

More silence. Grijalva and Gordon were completely stunned.

Straw said "Heather, I saw them authenticate. I know they were Starfleet orders."

"Negative, Cadet. We hacked the authentication system. We were not going to let those people be wiped out. Someone had to act." She stood at attention, looking straight ahead.

Gordon said, "You and Sterling wrote these orders? You stole a ship and went running off on some half-assed private rescue mission in Cardassian space? You attacked Cardassian warships?"

"Yes, sir. Cadet Sterling is dead. I alone am responsible for these orders. The other cadets were following what they believed were authentic orders from Starfleet Command."

Straw whispered, "No. It's not possible. You couldn't."

Grijalva said, "What have you done?" There was a long silence as he studied her. "Gordon, we have got to get out of here. If the Cardassians catch us, we'll be lucky if they only blow us out of space. Finish getting the most severely wounded onto the _Amsterdam_ and tell them to run as fast as they can for the nearest starbase. Have them send us a tug and as many escorts as they can. We are in very, very deep trouble. Have _Amsterdam_ notify Starfleet Command of what we have just learned, have them tell the Cardassians that the criminal responsible is in custody and that this was an isolated incident, not an act of war."

Standing, he ordered Straw. "Place this woman under arrest and lock her in the brig under suspicion of piracy, treason, murder, and conspiracy to commit all of the above. Get her out of here."

Heather spoke again, "Sir! The brig was destroyed. Will confinement to quarters suffice? I will make no attempt to escape."

Furious he said, "Get her out of here, Cadet Straw. Get her out of my sight before I do something I'll regret."

Heather sat in her quarters, alone. She had been alone for the past nine days. No one had come to see her, not even Paavo or Inga. She guessed that since she was under arrest, they hadn't been allowed to. But _someone_ should have come. Maybe Grijalva, or Gordon, even if only to yell at her or interrogate her, or whatever they did to prisoners. Almost anything would have been better than just being shunned completely.

They could have let her help with damage control, or with the wounded, or even clean up. Anything. Instead, she had just been left here, with nothing but her thoughts for company. Those were almost unbearable. The first few days had been the worst. Constantly questioning the choice to rescue those little people. Wondering where that cruiser had come from – the intelligence files they had accessed said there wasn't supposed to be anyone near Orias III. Wishing she had stayed low after shooting those troops on the ground so she wouldn't have gotten hit and could have been some use in that last fight. Trying to think what she could have done to save them. Any of them.

An involuntary shiver went up her spine from the memory of climbing into the _Archer_'s bridge after the _Thorn_ had transported her back aboard. Hoping, praying, that there was someone to rescue and finding only one cadet alive, burned, but still at his post and ignoring her completely. She breathed deeply, banishing the image of that blackened charnel house. She dropped to the deck and started doing pushups again, counting loudly to herself to keep the horrors away. Maybe tonight the nightmares wouldn't come; The endless sorrow of watching her friends, her mate, die over and over again, all overlaid with Malloy's hideous final scream.

Was this really a Starfleet mission? Were they really supposed to have done this? Even if it wasn't, it was the right thing to do, wasn't it? They saved a lot of people. They were Starfleet – they were supposed to risk their lives to save others. But did Spruance really mean for them to find that data? She had to pretend this was all her idea or the Cardassians would go to war with the Federation. She had to.

The door to her quarters opened without even a knock. Two very large Starfleet security men were there, and they stepped into her quarters. She stood up and two others came in after them, holding phasers at the ready. The lieutenant in charge, the first one through the door looked at her with disgust. "Heather Wilkes?"

"Yes, sir. That is me."

"You are under arrest for piracy, treason, multiple counts of murder and conspiracy to commit the same. Please place your hands together directly in front of yourself and make no sudden movements." While he spoke, his partners had moved around behind her.

"That's not really..."

The two behind him raised their phasers and he continued, "Please place your hands together directly in front of yourself and make no sudden movements. If you continue to resist, we are authorized to use any force necessary to take you into custody."

She slowly placed her hands together thinking to herself that this was absurd. They were treating her like some sort of psychopath. The lieutenant placed force-cuffs on her wrists and they enveloped her forearm from her fingertips almost to her elbows, holding them uncomfortably close together and forcing her to hunch her shoulders.

She opened her mouth to speak and he said, "I advise you to remain silent as anything you say will be considered willing testimony, however I will record any statement you wish to make at this time."

Her eyes wide, she closed her mouth and shook her head. He continued, "Come along quietly." The man behind her gave her a moderate shove and she followed the lieutenant into the empty, smoke damaged corridors of the _USS Archer_ for the last time. She kept hoping to see a friendly face - anyone. Someone had to know that she was doing what she was supposed to, that they had done the right thing. Instead, they hurried down to the burned-out transporter room, seeing no one. Less than a minute later, she found herself standing in a receiving room and as soon as she materialized, the force fields snapped on. She tried to determine where she was, but had absolutely no data. A brig somewhere. Maybe San Francisco? The guards hurried her forward again, the fields dropping as she moved into an adjacent compartment.

The lieutenant removed the force-cuffs and stepped back. The team moved back along the walls, covering her with their weapons as though she were going to leap at them and attack. She almost giggled, the first time she had felt any positive emotion in over a week. The force fields at the entrance cycled and a heavy-set woman came in to the room. She handed Heather a folded piece of cloth. "Remove that uniform. you have no right to wear that ever again. Put on the coveralls."

"Where do I change?" she asked, stung by the statement.

The phasers came up again and the lieutenant said, "I urge you to comply. We are authorized to use whatever force is necessary."

Her ears and whiskers drooping, she stripped out of the uniform she had worked so hard and for so many years to earn. Nudity wasn't any big deal, but the shame of being forced out of her uniform was.

As she was changing the lady ordered her, "Undergarments as well."

She struggled not to cry. She had done far too much of that these past many days. She hoped that Starfleet got her out of this soon. They had to. She had done what they wanted, hadn't she? The coveralls didn't even account for her tail.

Five minutes later she found herself standing in a small room with one wall being nothing more than a force field. There wasn't even a monitoring post visible. She tried to ask the Security men as they left, "Where am I?"

As the force field flickered on, the lieutenant paused and looked at her. "Why should you care?" He almost said something else, but instead just looked disgusted and left.

Heather stayed there, looking through the flickering field at nothing for a very long time.

FEDERATION DETENTION FACILITY

2292

She had lost track of time. The lights dimmed slightly, periodically, and she thought that was probably 'night', but it wasn't very much. No one came. She tried to make marks on the wall, but had nothing to scribe with. Her claws couldn't even scratch them. Maybe they had forgotten about her. No, the replicator still produced food from it's rather basic menu whenever she managed to feel like eating. She knew she was losing weight. They must just be watching her from the various sensor eyes scattered throughout the cell.

At least her kits were OK, safe with Rollin and Nina and Grandpa Rollin and Grammie Heather. She wondered if they knew where she was. She shied away from that line of thinking again.

Shouldn't someone come? An attorney? Spruance? Even a Security man to interrogate her? There was supposed to be a trial before they locked you up. She pounded on one of the security eyes and screamed at it, "I'm supposed to get a lawyer! You can't just leave me here! Even a..." she paused, her voice dropping to a whisper, "criminal...has rights." Except she wasn't _really _a criminal. It's just that no one knew that. No one _could_ know that until she found out if the Cardassians had decided not to attack because of their...her...raid. She wondered how many Cardassians had died.

The replicator didn't have any other functions. It wouldn't give her news, or books, or music, just simple food and water. This had to be illegal, keeping her penned up like this, alone, with _nothing_. She had taken to singing to keep her spirits up, trying to remember every song she and Andy had ever sung together. Too often she would break down in tears in the middle. Usually pushups or situps, done long enough, would end the crying.

Wasn't there supposed to be mail? Or a priest or something?

She was startled to realize that someone was outside the force field. She thanked God and hurried closer to the field and stopped quickly. The someone was Cardassian.

He was sitting in a chair, just studying her. She looked back at him. Why was he here?

The Cardassian smiled. "Well. How are you today?"

She blinked. Whatever she expected, that wasn't it. "I'm OK, I guess. Who are you?"

"You don't know me?"

"No. Should I?"

"I simply assumed you did; That I had wronged you somehow since you felt the need to destroy my post, murder hundreds of my troops, and have me shot as well. I thought it must be personal. Did you decide to go on your killing spree because you were bored?"

"No! I didn't go on a killing spree! It was a rescue mission! Who _are_ you?"

"A rescue mission? Who were you rescuing? Were there some Federation citizens trapped on Orias III? And what sort of a rescue mission involves the death of over 200 sentients? You have an odd notion of rescue...'Heather', isn't it?"

"Those little people! The Oriaslings! You were murdering them!"

He chuckled, "You mean the way you murdered my men and the crews of the _Vetor _and _Karn_? My men, at least were sentient. Those little creatures you killed so many people for, are animals. Clever, yes. Sentient? No. Do you feel sorrow, at least? Even some flash of regret for the people you killed? No? Perhaps for your friends? The ones you left behind to die as you ran away with the freighters?"

She was getting angrier by the moment. "Who are you?"

He stood up. "I am Legate Kai, of the Cardassian Union. I will be prosecuting you under an agreement with the United Federation of Planets. I merely wanted to see what sort of...creature it was that had caused so much death and destruction. I understand that you aren't even a natural being, that you are a construct. Is that true?"

Her ears were flat back and her eyes were slits of rage. "Fuck you."

He laughed, "No thank you. I have standards. Enjoy your privacy. Per our agreement with the Federation, you will be kept in isolation so that you cannot contact co-conspirators."

"Asshole. Where's _my_ lawyer?"

"That is still being negotiated, creature. There are so many things to settle before we get to your trial and inevitable execution." He smiled again. "Well. I have enjoyed our little chat. Good bye."

She tried to think of something to say as the tall, reptilian-looking man walked away, leaving her alone again, but came up empty. Finally, her anger cooled and she started thinking clearly again. So it was working. The Cardassians were negotiating, not attacking. And no one had come to see her because of them. For the first time in a very long time, she smiled. She would do her duty. She would maintain that it was all her and Andy's idea, that they were just stupid, idealistic cadets. Starfleet had nothing to do with it.

There would be a trial, and they'd convict her of something, disobeying orders maybe, but not all the stuff they had said when they arrested her. And they sure weren't going to execute her. The Federation didn't have a death penalty – that was barbaric. All she had to do was hang tight for a little while, let things play out, and then Starfleet would make it all go away. She closed her eyes and thought of Andy, and Mike, and Peggy and all the rest. She would protect the others. It was all her idea. It would suck for a while, but they had saved so many. She would get through it. She would be strong. She had to be.

She had finally started tying knots in a thread she pulled from her blanket as a way to keep track of time. Each knot was a 'day'. Now, if only she knew how long it had been before she figured that out...She decided that it had been nine days on the _Archer_, and a week, no, two, here before she started. So she tied 23 more knots in another string, and set that one aside. She would keep careful track of time. It must be April by now. She suddenly realized that her 22nd birthday had passed sitting in her quarters on the _Archer_.

The twins were eighteen months old now. They had almost been talking when they had left for Orias III. She wondered what their first words had been. She wondered what her family had been told. She dropped down to the deck and began doing pushups as fast as she could, counting loudly.

There were 30 knots in her string, plus the 23 in the first one. No one had come. She tucked them under the mattress again and looked at her blanket. For a moment she thought about not bothering to pull another string loose. What was the point? Finally she sighed and pulled another thread loose and tied her first knot.

She began to sing one of the twins' favorite lullabies, another one of her ancient musical treasures. She didn't know much about it, she had only found an untitled clip. But she hoped it was true. She hoped her kits hadn't forgotten her. She hoped that Andy, wherever he was, didn't blame her. Softly, she sang:

_4__Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight_

_Someone's thinking of me and loving me tonight_

_Somewhere out there someone's saying a prayer_

_That we'll find one another in that big somewhere out there_

_And even though I know how very far apart we are_

_It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star_

_And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby_

_It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky_

_Somewhere out there if love can see us through_

_Then we'll be together somewhere out there_

_Out where dreams come true_

She held the last note for a while, letting it draw out and hold all the sadness she felt. Then there was a slow, insulting, clapping sound. She looked out past the force field and there was Kai and two other Cardassians with phasers.

"What do _you_ want?" she asked him.

"Your fate is at hand, creature. Your trial begins today." He touched a control on his wrist and the force field dropped. "Please don't resist. The public has a right to see you go through your trial before you are executed. It would disappoint the people if we had to shoot you here."

She raised her hands for the inevitable force-cuffs and remained silent. She was marched along quickly and when they left the building she blinked in the bright sunlight. It looked like Earth. She was shoved into a transport and the APV moved along for about half an hour. The sun! Gods how she had missed the sun. And a blue sky. And real air!

Much too soon, the vehicle came to a halt. She was shocked to see a crowd of people – humans! It was Earth! - clustered around the entrance to what must be the court building. There were Starfleet Security troopers keeping the steps clear. Why were there so many people? What was going on?

The Cardassians pushed her out of the APV and she looked up at the deep blue sky and smiled, Everything would be all right. She was on Earth and there were Starfleet personnel here. It would still work out. They started up the steps and a woman lunged past one of the Security men and spat on her face. Heather recoiled, shocked and the woman screamed "YOU KILLED MY SON YOU FRANKENSTEINIAN BITCH!" before she was grabbed and shoved back into the crowd of people.

The resemblance was so strong, it was obviously Thompson's mother. Before she could speak, the Cardassians hustled her into the building, moving away from the grumbling crowd. She couldn't even reach up and wipe the spittle from her cheek. Those people were all here because of _her_? She realized that it wasn't just Starfleet and the Cardassians who thought she had acted on her own. This was a lot bigger then she thought it was. Those people thought she and Andy had...They brought her into the court room and she tried to assess what she saw.

There were lots of Fleet personnel in the gallery, and lots of media people too, evidently. She wanted to throw up. This wasn't at all like she imagined it would be. This wasn't anything like any of the other times she had been in trouble. This was terrifyingly real. The guards led her to a table with a lieutenant (j.g.) sitting at it and shoved her into a chair. They removed her force-cuffs and moved off to the back of the room while Kai sat at the table across the aisle from hers.

The woman sitting next to her said, "I'm your lawyer, Heather. I'm Lieutenant junior-grade Alexander. We'll get a chance to talk soon, there's been a lot happening behind the scenes. Today you shouldn't have to testify, we'll just be laying out why we're all here. We..."

"Attention on deck!" a Chief Petty Officer cried out and the military folks all stood to attention. Heather saw the judges walk in and almost sighed with relief. Admiral Angie Stone, Captain James T. Kirk, and a Cardassian. She couldn't _ask_ for a better sign that Starfleet was already getting things fixed!

Admiral Stone gaveled the court martial into session. She picked up a PADD and began to read. "Heather Wilkes, Attention!" She and her lawyer both quickly got to their feet. "You are accused of one count of treason, seven counts of piracy, 40 counts of dereliction of duty leading to the death of a teammate, and 273 counts of murder. The Cardassian's have agreed to the dismissal of all lesser charges involved in the incidents of stardates 9251.6 through 9270.7, inclusive." she looked up. "How do you plead?"

Before she could even open her mouth, her lawyer said, "Not Guilty, ma'am!"

She swallowed in a very dry throat. The list of charges was...insane. She looked at her Aunt Angie, who looked back at her with an icy, cold expression. Even Kirk was looking at her like she was evil; Kirk who had gotten away with violating the Prime Directive a hundred times, who had broken almost every regulation there was, and he was looking at her like she was disgusting!

Stone spoke again, "Heather Wilkes, you may be seated. Legate Kai of the Cardassian Union will be prosecuting this case and has an opening statement."

Kai stood, smiling at her with his reptilian grin. "As we have agreed, we of the Cardassian Union, in the interests of peace, justice and fairness have renounced our grievances on the violation of our territory and our right to try this pirate – excuse me, sir! I am used to Cardassian jurisprudence – this _accused _pirate in our own court system. We have put our faith in Federation justice and wait to see how true to your claimed principles you are.

"We have incontrovertible evidence that this...constructed being...lied, cheated, and stole Federation property, then, leading a group of misguided students who had become used to her constant violations of rules and regulations, blasted into Cardassian territory where they slaughtered unsuspecting and innocent Cardassians for their own amusement.

"Now, we do not blame those poor students. No, they were clearly the victims of a system that tolerated disobedience. A system that encouraged free thinking and doing whatever one felt was right, completely disregarding the guidance of older, wiser heads. Sadly, forty of them paid the price for that folly. Instead, we will show that this...creature...is solely responsible for these crimes. And we demand that justice prevail!" He sat down.

Alexander stood up, "Ma'am. I apologize for being unprepared. As you know, my client has been kept incommunicado per Cardassian demands and I have had no time to confer, nor prepare an opening statement. I request a recess so that I may confer with my client."

The three judges talked among themselves. Heather was trying not to shake. Finally Stone spoke again, "This court will recess until 0800 tomorrow." and banged the gavel.

Instead of getting to talk to her lawyer, Heather was manacled again, loaded into the APV and taken back to her cell. She was sitting on her bunk, dejected and wondering what to do when the force field cycled and Lt. Alexander came in.

"Heather, how are you holding up?"

"They're going to execute me." She said.

"No, no they're not. But I won't lie to you, it's not looking very good. The evidence is...well, it's overwhelming. They've got depositions from your surviving squadron mates and the _Archer's_ Cadet Chief Engineer as well as copies of all the orders you issued.

Heather, you have to tell me the truth. Who put you up to this? This reeks. You've been set up."

She looked up, "No. It was Andy and me. It was our idea from the start."

Alexander studied her. "Heather, whatever they told you, they're lying. They use people like you up and throw you away like toilet paper. Did they tell you they'd cover for you? That if you just danced like a good little puppet they'd make it all go away? They lie. Tell me who it was, Heather."

Heather looked her square in the eyes. If she broke now and told on Spruance, the Cardassians would know they were set up. Whatever had been accomplished towards peace would fail. This was more negotiations than the Federation had ever had with them – this might even lead to an alliance. Something truly good beyond saving a few thousand people might come of this nightmare. "My mate and I came up with the idea. We wrote the orders. We issued the orders. We conducted the raid. There was no one else who knew what we were planning, or even suggested it."

Alexander shook her head. "You are an idealistic fool. I'll try once more – Do you know they are crucifying you in the media? 'The First Traitor Ever at Starfleet Academy', 'Half-Human Murders Hundreds To Save Animals', 'Starfleet: Guardians or Pirates?' - it goes on like that. The Cardassians have been granting interviews with widows and orphans and inviting reporters to visit the homes of the animals as well as showing the destruction your raid caused. They're claiming that your fighters strafed the city indiscriminately, killing thousands of the animals along with the Cardassians. They've got sensor logs showing it.

"They've made a hero out of a young gunner who risked his life to save several of his mates and a cluster of the little creatures. Apparently, he almost shot you down before his vehicle was blown apart, killing everyone but him. They play that clip a lot. It's very dramatic and of course your fighter is very identifiable."

Heather was shaking her head and whispering "No, no, no, no." She finally said, "We only hit Cardassians. We were careful. And they're _people_ not animals! Look at the report with the orders! Look at the interviews! I saw them, I spoke to them, they're _people_! Use the gun camera logs from our..." she remembered that their powerless fighters had been abandoned on Lilac's freighters.

"Heather, I know. And we'll be introducing those orders. That's the only thing I can do for you, unless you tell me it wasn't you. I'll try to get them to drop the charges or reduce the severity due to extenuating circumstances. It's all we've got. But you need to know how you're being portrayed out there. They are hanging you out to dry, sister. And they don't care at all. They got what they wanted.

"The media has been taking an anti-Starfleet bent lately. They seem to go in cycles and when there's been peace and prosperity for a long time, they start to ask what we need Starfleet for. They forget all the times Starfleet has saved this planet – and many others – and ask 'what have you done for me _lately?_'.

She stood up. "I'm sorry, Heather. I'm not going to be able to do much for you. Unless...?" she left the question hanging.

Heather looked up at her. "Is there anything from my family? A letter? Anything?"

Alexander looked sad. "I'm sorry. The Cardassians demanded the right to be the ones holding custody over you, and they require that you be kept in isolation. You stay in Federation territory, but they are the ones in charge of how you're handled as long as it stays within some boundaries. They seem to really want to make an example out of you." She looked at Heather for a few moments more, seemed about to say something but instead, turned and left.

It was hours before Heather could lay down and sleep. And the nightmares came again.


	16. Chapter 15

_**CHAPTER 15**_

"_This is a court of law, young man, not a court of justice."_

_- Judge Oliver Wendell Holmes – Earth (Human)_

GREAT LAKES TRAINING FACILITY, CHICAGO, EARTH

MAY, 2292

Lt. Alexander started the trial off with a bang. After Stone gaveled them back into session, she stood and said, "Sirs, I would like to move for an immediate dismissal of the treason charge."

She looked back at her, "And why is that, lieutenant?"

"Ma'am nothing about the events described meets the definition of treason. None of my client's actions aided any foreign government. In fact, her actions were in keeping with the very principles of the Federation Charter. She was directly responsible for the rescue of many thousands of sentient beings!"

Kai was on his feet a moment later, "Nonsense! Those creatures are not sentient. Why, they have less claim to being sentient beings than this...artificially constructed creature now on trial!"

Alexander pounced, "If that is the case, sirs, I move for immediate dismissal of all charges."

Even Kirk said, "What? On what grounds?"

"If my client is not sentient then she cannot be responsible for her actions. Per the honorable Prosecutor's own statement she can not..."

Kai interrupted. "Your honors, this woman is turning these proceedings into a farce."

"Not at all! You have stated that there is a question about my client's status. That should be determined scientifically and my client released on bond while she is examined and tested. If she is found to be sentient, then the trial can proceed."

Heather was horrified at the implication. Of course she was sentient!

Kai snorted, "A transparent delaying tactic, lieutenant. You attempt to have this murderer and pirate let loose while an endless stream of tests and experiments are conducted and the victims of Orias III wait for justice!"

Stone finally banged for quiet. "Both motions denied, lieutenant. The trial will proceed. Now, do you have an opening statement?"

"Ma'am, I move for the dismissal of all 273 counts of murder on the grounds that she was only following Cadet Sterling's orders and was therefore not responsible."

Stone frowned. "Lieutenant, I'm sure you know we are having this trial to determine exactly _what_ your client is responsible for. Motion denied. Now, do you have an opening statement, or will you continue trying to find spurious reasons for dismissing each charge individually?"

She cleared her throat. It had been worth a try. "Yes, ma'am, I do ma'am. Have an opening statement I mean, ma'am." She glanced at her PADD and said, "Your honors, I will show that my client was, in fact, acting at the behest of higher authority and is therefore not guilty of the charges presented." She sat down.

Kirk said, "That's it?"

"Yes, sir."

He cocked his head at her. "Lieutenant, that was very...succinct. Thank you." He turned to Kai, "Would you care to call your first witness?"

Kai stood. "I would. I call the criminal herself to testify! Forgive me – accused criminal."

Heather stood, a little shakily and moved to the chair next to Admiral Stone. She felt completely ashamed at the fluorescent pink coveralls she wore instead of her uniform. Shouldn't they have waited until they convicted her to take that away? The CPO swore her in and she sat down, trying to look confident.

"Well, 'Heather'. Your day of reckoning is finally at hand. We'll try to make this quick and painless for you."

Alexander was on her feet again, "Your honors! Is the Prosecutor going to question the witness or torment her?"

Kirk simply said, "Please get to it, Legate."

"Of course. Did you, or did you not steal information from Federation computers relating to the events in question?"

"Yes, sir."

Kai blinked. "You admit it?"

"Yes, sir." Alexander tried not to look defeated. This whole situation stank. It wasn't what she wanted for her first trial experience as a JAG Attorney, but she figured that's why she got the case; The folks behind this were going to make sure the young woman fried. Well, she was going to give it her best shot anyway. To hell with Starfleet's smelly games.

"Then, did you forge a series of documents to look like official Starfleet orders?"

"Yes, sir."

He was smiling. "And then, utilize those orders to steal a Federation frigate and six star fighters?"

"Yes, sir." Heather finally saw, sitting towards the back of the court room, her parents. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die. They looked completely stunned.

"You do not deny the theft?"

Honor, she thought. "Sir, I am under oath. I will not lie."

"Well!" he smiled at the court. "Then this will take no time at all. Let us continue. Did you then invade sovereign Cardassian space?"

"Yes, sir."

"And then, lead your six fighters down into Orias III where you murdered two Cardassian pilots, and then proceeded to strafe innocent Soldiers – including myself, I might add! - and destroy Cardassian property?"

"No, sir."

"You said you will not lie!"

"Sir, I engaged no other fighters. I did strafe a line of Soldiers who were on the ground, and I did destroy an air defense position that was attempting to engage myself and my team."

"I see. But you issued the orders that brought the other killers to Orias III, correct? The pilots who _did_ shoot down my fighters? And the frigate which destroyed my patrol ship?"

"Yes, sir."

"And did you then attack and cripple the Cardassian cruiser _Vetor_?"

"I didn't engage the _Vetor, _sir_. _My Viper was badly damaged by ground fire and I had no chance to do so. However, my team did engage the _Vetor_. We were trying to leave when they attacked us. We acted in self-defense."

"Self-defense does not apply when _you_ are the aggressor."

"If you say so, sir."

"Tell me, where did the freighters go?"

"I don't know, sir. We made it into Federation territory and they left on their own immediately."

"But you confess to illegally accessing Federation computer systems, stealing the frigate and the fighters, invading Cardassian space, and shooting innocent Cardassians, is that correct?"

"I wouldn't say innocent, sir, but on he whole, that is correct sir."

Kai turned to the panel of judges. The Cardassian judge was looking smug. Stone and Kirk were keeping their faces carefully neutral. "Well, your honors, we may be done before lunch. The criminal has confessed. On Cardassia Prime, we would now move to the execution!"

Stone interrupted, "This is _not _Cardassia Prime, Legate."

"Pity." he said. "No further questions at this time."

Alexander stood and walked towards Heather. "You maintain that you and Cadet Sterling wrote those orders yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"All of them."

"Yes, ma'am."

"The two of you managed to conceive of this entire operation on your own, wrote orders sending Commander Spruance to Kauai, handling the loading of supplies, torpedoes, parts and so on, all of the movement of the personnel involved...all without help?"

"Commander Spruance? You mean Captain Spruance, ma'am."

"Ah, of course, you couldn't know. Commander Spruance was convicted of dereliction of duty and negligence a couple of weeks ago and stripped of his rank, fined, and imprisoned for thirty days."

"He didn't have anything to do with this!"

"Not for this, for keeping you and Sterling on as students despite constant violations of many different regulations when policies and procedures called for you to be removed from the Academy."

Heather closed her mouth, grinding her teeth. Alexander studied her.

"Tell me, Heather, if no one helped you write these...how did you and Sterling, not known for your computer skills, gain access to several very secure computer networks in order to create these orders?"

Heather realized they hadn't thought through what they would say. There had been so many other things to do first. They always thought they'd have time to work out the details later. She stammered, "We found the access codes."

"Really. Found them, eh? And where did you 'find' these very secure codes, Heather?"

She clammed up. She was furiously trying to think. Alexander didn't want to give her a chance. "Sirs, I would like to consider the witness hostile. Will you order her to answer the question, please?"

Kirk raised his eyebrows. "You're declaring your own client to be hostile to you, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir."

"Interesting tactic, Lieutenant. Heather, you will answer the question."

"It was written down."

"On what? Where were they?"

"On Captain Spruance's desk. I went in to deliver some homework and he wasn't there. There was a paper with the codes on it and I was curious. I took a picture with my PADD and Sterling and I figured out what they were." Her eyes burned at the lies.

"I see. So, Commander Spruance violated every security protocol in the book by writing down access codes and then again by leaving them unsecured on his desk while he wasn't there. Is that about it?"

"I guess so, ma'am."

"That's fascinating, Heather. So, armed with these codes, you and Sterling then...what?"

"We, um. We figured out what they were, and then we realized that we could help the Oriaslings and that no one else was going to. So we started planning out the raid and figuring out what all orders we needed to write to make it work."

"A lot of work, planning out a raid that complex. Especially for two cadets with no fleet experience at all, no logistics training, no intelligence training. Even more so for two fighter pilots with no experience planning fleet movements. You are quite exceptional, evidently.

"Tell me, Heather. Who was it that actually wrote all those orders? Was it Commander Spruance?"

"No, ma'am. Sterling and I wrote every single one of them." That much was true, she thought. There had only been templates and checklists in the data they had gotten – a guideline for what needed to be done.

"Amazing. And tell me, Heather; you say you decided to help the Oriaslings while you were browsing around on Commander Spruance's access codes, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And how did you learn about the plight of these poor people in the first place?"

"We stumbled upon a presentation in Captain ...Commander Spruance's files, ma'am."

"Of course. What fortunate timing." She turned to the court, "Sirs, I would like to call Commander Spruance to the stand."

Stone blinked and worked hard to keep her face impassive. Kirk said, "And why is that, Lieutenant?"

"I believe Commander Spruance issued the orders and that Heather is covering up for him."

"And I believe in the Easter Bunny, Lieutenant. We are not here for a fishing expedition or so that you can make a name for yourself. Do you have any further questions for this witness?"

Alexander was stunned. So were Heather's parents. She said, "Not at this time, sir."

"Very well. Legate, are you prepared to call your next witness?" Kirk asked.

Kai stood, a smile of triumph on his face. "I see no need, your honors. The witness has confessed to each and every specification! Several times, I might add."

Kirk turned to Alexander, "Lieutenant, do you have any further witnesses to call?"

"Would it matter, sir?" she asked bitterly.

"Lieutenant, I will give you exactly one chance to rephrase your answer."

"Sir. No, sir. Thank you sir."

"This court is recessed until 0800 tomorrow morning when we will render our verdict. Dismissed." he banged the gavel again.

Heather sat on the edge of her bunk with her head in her hands. She had wanted to see her parents more than anything in the world, and now she wished more than anything else that they hadn't seen her. Her parents were heroes, decorated many times by both the Dosadi and the Federation. And they watched her confess to being the lowest form of criminal. And she had lied. Why weren't Kirk and Aunt Angie helping her?

She had thought that her lawyer's tactic to get the charges thrown out would work – that was their chance to make it something that would go away. Maybe this really wasn't a Starfleet plan. Maybe she and Sterling read too much into it. Then she really was everything they said. Gods, she hoped no one told the twins.

And what had happened to Spruance?! Why did they go after him? Why was he in jail? Were the Cardassians so vindictive that they would go after their _teacher_? If they could make the Federation do that...maybe they were going to execute her.

After a few moments thought, she decided that might be for the best. At least then the pain and the nightmares and the shame would stop.

Captain Thomas Wilkes and his mate, Strike Leader Sooth were waiting outside the court room. When Admiral Stone came out of the building, he called to her, "ANGIE!"

She skipped a step. "Wilkes." and continued walking.

"Angie, what the fuck is going on in there?"

She only glanced at the pair of them as she walked. "A court martial."

"Angie, that's a railroad job and you know it! Heather's no traitor! You've known her almost her whole life! She's your _niece_!"

She stopped. "_Captain, _I cannot comment on an active court martial. The person on trial is immaterial. Only the evidence and the testimony. Please excuse me." And she walked off quickly, leaving the two of them standing on the sidewalk in shock.

Sooth was holding Wilkes' arm tightly, but not saying anything.

After a moment's reflection he said, "This smells. We need to make a subspace call."

Minutes later, they were in a private booth and Wilkes arranged for the connection he wanted. Marshal Jon's violet face and greying-white hair filled the view screen. "Jons, have you been following what's happening to Heather?"

"Of course. It's the lead on the news across the galaxy. I'm so very sorry, Wilkes."

Wilkes studied him. "Jons, I saw the testimony today. Someone put them up to this, somehow." There was silence on the other end. "Jons, please tell me what's going on." more silence. The old man was clearly trying to decide what to say. "Jons, you have been my friend, my partner, even my enemy at one time. You have been an uncle to my children. I trust you with my life and theirs. In all that time, even when we were on opposite sides, I have never known you to lie to me, nor to be anything other than honorable. Please Jons. I'm begging you."

He cleared his throat. He finally met Wilkes' eyes. "Wilkes, your daughter is an honorable and decent woman. You can always count on her to do what is _right_ – even when that is difficult and costly. All I can tell you is to have faith in God and be strong." he looked very sad.

There was a long silence and Sooth said, "Can't you do anything?"

Briefly he looked like she had struck him. "I'm sorry, m'lady. I have other duties to attend to. Please call again soon." and he closed the connection.

They both stared at the blank screen. "What the _fuck_." Wilkes finally said.

Sooth had been thinking. "He knows what's happening, Wilkes."

"It's that god damn spy shit. Why is my daughter getting dragged into that crap?"

She said, "Wilkes, if he's involved, it will be OK. I don't know how but he'll fix it. That's what he was telling us – have faith in God and be strong."

"Why would he get Heather involved? Why would he even be involved? There isn't anything involving Hydra anywhere near any of this. I don't get it."

Sooth stood up. "Me either. But I think I feel better. Jons will fix it, Wilkes. He will."

Again, Admiral Stone brought the court to session with a loud rap of her gavel. "Heather, do you have anything further to add in your defense?"

She shook her head, standing at attention. She didn't trust herself to speak.

Neither Kirk nor Stone looked directly at her. "This court finds you guilty of all charges. You are hereby sentenced to serve out the remainder of your days in the penal facility on Ceres. Per the terms of our agreement with the Cardassian Union, you will be under their custody.

"This court is adjourned." she banged the gavel again. She and the other judges stood and left the room.

She didn't know whether to be relieved that she wasn't going to be executed, or disappointed. Her lawyer just shook her head. "I'm sorry, Heather." the Cardassian guards closed in on her, and she quickly found herself manacled and being hauled out of the room again.

In the back of the courtroom, Wilkes and Sooth just watched, trying to keep their anger under control.

That evening, Captain Kirk was sitting in his living room with his friend and Chief Medical Officer, 'Bones' McCoy. He had a glass of scotch in his hand and was looking down at the darkened bay and the blinking lights of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"Jim, that's your third scotch in the past half hour."

There was no answer. Kirk took another drink.

"Jim. You need to slow down. I'm not just speaking as your friend, but as your doctor concerned for your liver."

Kirk looked at him. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Bones. That kid is no more guilty of treason or murder than you or I."

"If I recall we nearly got convicted of both more than a few times, Jim."

"We never got railroaded like that though. I feel...dirty having been part of that."

"Then why did you agree to do it, Jim?"

Kirk swirled the scotch and took another drink, frowning. "I can't really say. It had to be done and I was one of the _logical_ ones to do it. I feel like I should ask 'but what is truth?' and wash my hands."

"Pontius Pilate doesn't really fit you. And I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't have fur, or a tail."

"I said no jokes, Bones. I feel sleazy."

"So you can't tell me why, but you can tell me this kid needed to go to jail for the rest of her life. No other way whatever is going on could happen, right?"

He finished his scotch and said, "That's about it. That lawyer of hers though!" He smiled a bit, "She almost screwed everything up. She's got potential. We may have to find more work for her. Do we need an attorney aboard the _Enterprise_?"

"Finally. A smile. That's better. Jim, you've given orders a hundred times that led young men and women to their deaths." Kirk scowled at him, "And I know every time it ripped your heart out. But that's part of being what you are – a starship captain. Sometimes you have to do terrible things in order to save the ship. If you had to order that little girl to do what Spock did, in order to save the _Enterprise_, would you do it? Would you order her to die to save the rest of us?

"You don't even have to answer. You'd hate yourself, like you do right now. You'd remember that order and wonder what you could have done differently every day, but you'd do it. Because like Spock said, sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one."

"I just hope I'm never in a kangaroo court like that."

"That's why you've got me, and Spock, and Scotty and Uhura and all the rest; to get you out of those situations."

"Who does she have, Bones?"

The door chime rang. McCoy raised his eyebrows and took a swallow from his own drink. Kirk called out "Come!"

Wilkes and Sooth stepped inside the apartment. Kirk stood, glanced back at McCoy and asked, "What can I do for you...Captain?"

"Wilkes, this is my mate, Strike Leader Sooth of the Dosadi Imperial Marines. We're Heather's parents."

"I'm very sorry about what happened." Kirk said. McCoy just watched, silently.

"Captain, that was a joke of a trial. There were more procedural violations than I could count for a Court Martial. I'm not even going to go into the attorney she was assigned for a case of that severity. I'm not going to bring up the lengthy isolation she was kept in before trial. I won't mention that she had no chance whatsoever to consult with her attorney. All I will say is that was the biggest miscarriage of justice I've ever seen and I want to know why."

Kirk looked like he had bitten into something nasty. "There were changes in process due to the negotiations with the Cardassian Union. Concessions had to be made."

"Did those concessions include selling my daughter down the river? Is that what this was about? Trade my daughter for a peace deal with them?"

"Captain, your daughter confessed on the stand. There is no question that she did everything she was accused of. There was nothing that could be done."

"And you and I both know she didn't just get some wild hare up her ass and decide to go do this all on her own! Why did you close down any inquiry into where she got those codes? Or the sudden infusion of knowledge in how to order fleet movements? This was a set-up and you know it! Are you the one who set them up? Was it you?" Wilkes was starting to get in Kirk's face. Sooth put a hand on his arm.

Kirk wasn't one to back down, especially not in his own apartment. "I think it's time for you to leave, _Captain_."

Sooth was steering him towards the door, but her nose was working. Kirk smelled ashamed. He was involved, somehow. When they reached the door, Wilkes fired a parting shot, "How would _you_ feel if someone set _your_ kid up like this? Wouldn't you help them? Or would you leave them to rot?!" They stepped outside the door and it cycled closed.

Kirk threw his glass into the fireplace. McCoy said, "Jim, he couldn't know about David."


	17. Chapter 16

_**CHAPTER 16**_

"_Getting through the nights is the toughest part. Being alone. Not having her there to talk to"  
- Stuart Appleby__ – Earth (Human)_

FEDERATION PENAL FACILITY, CERES

MAY, 2292

Heather sat on her bunk. Her new cell looked almost exactly like her old one. The grey was just a slightly different shade. She wished she had remembered to take her strings with her. Her mind a blank, she pulled some threads out and started tying knots again.

It didn't take long. She stood up and walked over to the force field that made up one wall of her cell. Would they let her go outside here for exercise? Oh, wait, she was on Ceres. There wasn't anything outside. She walked the few steps around her cell. Looked at the glittering little sensor eyes. She sat down.

She wasn't going to cry again. She was stronger than that. There wasn't anything bad happening. She just had to wait is all. She looked at the floor. Wait until she died. Let's see...Dosadi normally live to about 80 and she was 22. 22 years old. Her eyes welled up. She had two kits. She wouldn't ever see them again. Did they think she was dead? Wouldn't that be better then them knowing what she really was? The Cardassians were going to keep her here, alone, to rot for what, sixty years? Would they let her have visitors? Did she even want any? Or something to read? How long was sixty years anyway?

She finally put her head in her hands and cried. Eventually, she curled up on her bunk and slept. When she awoke, she saw that there was a guard outside her cell; A Cardassian. He was reading something at the console he sat at. She said, "Hello?"

The guard looked up at her, but didn't say anything. She tried again. "Hello? My name is Heather."

A different voice answered, "You no longer have a name, creature. You have a number. You are Prisoner 624." and Legate Kai stepped into her view.

"My _name_ is Heather and I am a person, not a creature."

Kai laughed. "624, you are whatever I tell you that you are. I am your entire world now, I am, in effect, your god. Please me, and I shall reward you. Anger me, and I shall punish you."

She snorted. "A rat god, maybe. Or an ass god. They said there are limits on what you can do to me. The Federation's not going to let you just do whatever you want."

"Oh, very good! You were paying attention. That is true, there are limits, but they are not many. I can't torture you, or starve you, or engage in 'cruel and unusual punishment', whatever that may be. But make no mistake, 624, I can punish you. Or reward you as well! Wouldn't you like something to read? Or music? I know you sing. Perhaps we simply started out on the wrong foot when you murdered my troops and had those disgusting outcasts you hired shoot me..."

Heather was no fool. "You're not going to give me those things, you just want to see me beg for something."

"Not true! If you answer some questions, I will give you something to read. For instance, was this really all your idea? As you can see, the Federation has abandoned you. You owe them nothing. They have taken everything from you and left you to me. Why protect them? Does that make sense?"

"No." her whiskers and ears drooped.

"Then tell me! That would go a long way towards improving our relationship and making our time together more pleasant."

She didn't even pause. "I wish it wasn't, but it was all our idea. I wish it was theirs! Then they wouldn't have screwed me like this!" A small part of her mind flamed into hope that it _was_ really Starfleet's plan from the start. That what she and Sterling figured out was right. Maybe he was just here trying to see if they should go to war with the Federation or not. Maybe it wouldn't take long, and then Aunt Angie could get her out.

Kai was actually surprised. "You're serious? You would be a fool to protect whoever put you up to this. Why lie?"

"I'd be better off lying. Maybe if I made up someone you'd go after them. I could say it was Captain Spruance, maybe? Didn't they put him in jail already?"

His expression turned from one of surprise to disgust. "Don't patronize me. We know it wasn't Spruance. Those codes were well beyond his access level. Was it Kirk?"

She sat on her bunk. "No." she sighed. "Andy and I came up with it after we saw the pictures of those little people being murdered and tortured. There was one of a little girl, she made me think of my kits having that done to them." her eyes welled up again, "I just knew we had to do something. And we were the best! We had those codes and we knew we could plan it and make everyone believe it was a real mission, real orders! They'd even authenticate! And it worked so well! Then that ship showed up and it just went so wrong. We didn't think anyone would die. We thought we'd get like kicked back a year or something. Not this."

"You didn't think anyone would die? What about my pilots? What about my men those mercenaries you hired killed?"

"They weren't supposed to kill anyone. They were supposed to just hold them hostage. We didn't know how they worked. We just thought we paid them and they had to do what we said. I didn't even know they killed those people until the trial." she looked up at him, letting her sorrow show, "We wanted to save people, not kill them." Another set of lies, she thought. Fitting for a criminal.

Kai was studying her. "This really was your idea, wasn't it?"

She slumped her shoulders, "Yes. I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. "You are sorry because you were caught and are now being made to pay for your crimes. Otherwise you would feel yourself a hero! The rescuer of all these cute little people! Bah! On Cardassia Prime, I would have you slowly tortured to death. Sadly, here I cannot do that." He thought to himself, or maybe I can. He smiled. "I promised you something to read if you answered my questions, didn't I?"

"Yes." She smiled. That would be something, at least!

"Very well." He motioned to the guard. "Bring the letter up on the replicator panel."

A letter! Oh thank the gods! Maybe from her parents! Excited, she turned to the wall mounted panel and began to read. It wasn't from her parents.

"_Dear son,_

_We're so glad to hear that you are serving honorably and that you are going to be promoted! You make us so proud. We're also thrilled that you will be coming home for leave next week and..."_

She couldn't read any more. Part of her knew the answer, but she had to ask anyway. "What...is this?"

"Oh, it's a letter! Sadly, it was unable to be delivered as the young man it was addressed to was killed when his air defense position was struck by a photon torpedo fired by...you. But don't you want to finish it? It's really quite touching. He was their only son and they thought the world of him. Don't you want to know his name?"

Her eyes were wide and her mouth was hanging open. She slowly shook her head back and forth.

"Ah, a pity. I'm sure he'd like you to remember him. Sadly, there wasn't even a body to send back to his parents..." She had curled up on the floor and was crying. Smiling to himself, he turned and went back to the guard post. "Block off the cell, audio and visual."

The guard touched a control and the force field turned into an opaque golden-colored space. Kai told him "Our sensitive Federation hosts won't let us do much, however, I want this prisoner to pay for her crimes. Do not speak to her. Ignore her completely. Also, I want you to gradually change the cycle time for the lighting so that it is faster until it is, say 6 hours of night, and then 10 hours of day. Let her tie her little knots somewhat faster. And make sure you wake her for 'inspection' in the middle of every sleep cycle. If she falls asleep during the day, wake her at least once. Not enough to offend their delicate sensibilities, but enough to keep her off-balance and groggy.

Our dead demand justice." He turned and left.

FEDERATION PENAL FACILITY, CERES

2292

She was tired all the time. They never let her sleep all the way through the night, they wouldn't even let her take a decent nap. That had to be against some rule. She wondered if she'd use up all the threads in her blanket before she died. She'd gone through another 2 strings since coming here. She was so sick of being alone with nothing to do. Pushups and situps and exercises like that got pretty old pretty fast. No one talked to her, except to yell at her or tell her to stand up for inspection.

Except Kai. And she wished he wouldn't talk to her. She wished he would die. He was horrible. Every day he would read another letter to or from one of the Cardassians who died at Orias III. One day he even had the last letter Thompson sent home to his mother. And the bastard sat there and read them aloud so she couldn't even hide from them. She wondered what he'd do when he ran out of letters. She decided she really didn't want to know. The letters were bad enough. She was studying the way the walls and the floor made a perfect Cartesian axis where they met when he called out to her again.

"Prisoner 624."

"My name is Heather." It was a rote response by now.

"I have a treat for you today, 624!"

She closed her eyes. Some awful new letter perhaps. "My name is Heather. Why won't you leave me alone?"

He laughed. "But you spend so much of your time alone! I would think you would appreciate the company!" he motioned to the guard and a photograph appeared on the wall of her cell. A young Cardassian girl chasing a ball.

That didn't seem so bad. It made her think of Reighney and Aedan. They were doing so well toddling about when they dropped them off at Grammie Heather's. She closed that line of memory off quickly. "Who is she?"

"Isn't she adorable? So happy."

This wasn't quite like him. "Yes, it's good to see a smile again." she said.

"She doesn't smile much any more, of course."

She clenched her jaw. "We didn't kill any children. You know that. We only shot at Soldiers."

"Oh, no, no, 624. She isn't dead!" he paused. "Of course, her father is. He was a maintenance tech aboard the _Vetor_. I believe it was your mate's fighter that smashed into the hull where he was working and killed him."

She lowered her head. Everything about this man was evil.

"But! I do have a present for you. I'm sure it's something you'll enjoy."

"Let me guess, the ball she's playing with or a photo of her brother or..."

"Why 624, of course not!" he interrupted. He reached behind the guard's console and pulled up an obviously battered, smashed, and melted object.

It took her a moment and then she stepped back from the force field involuntarily and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Why, it seems you recognize it!" He held it up. The black bat wings were recognizable despite the melting and the fractures in the tough material of the flight helmet and the word DEMON painted across the front was still readable. "Did you know that almost all cultures have legends of angels and demons? Quite fascinating, really. I spent some time reading up on human demons. Very terrifying." he was turning it over in his hands. The inside was stained a rusty brown and most of the back of the helmet was too damaged to identify, but the letters ST..L..G were still slightly visible.

He held it up. "Wasn't your fighter painted like an angel? A human with wings? And your mate was a demon. A fascinating contrast. Perhaps one day you will tell me why you two chose such opposite avatars."

Heather couldn't stop looking at it. Her eyes were wide and staring.

"I think I'll just hang this here for you to enjoy, 624." he hung the helmet on the front of the guard's console where she would have to look at it whenever she lay on her bunk or faced the front wall. He chuckled to himself and left.

FEDERATION PENAL FACILITY, CERES

2292

It was getting harder every day to bother with tying a knot in the string. But it was almost the only thing she had to do. She tried to schedule her exercises so that the running in place was a treat, a reward for making it through a morning, or an evening. It was hard to work up interest in eating too. Whenever she went to get food or water, the replicator flashed up a letter, or a picture of a young Cardassian, or one of the Fleet casualties and kept it there for a few minutes before it would deliver the food. Once it had been Andy's picture.

And all day, every day she had to look at his smashed and broken helmet.

She was having problems remembering people's faces. The twins were still clear. Andy was too. But Mike was getting fuzzy. And Peggy. She remembered when Peggy was fighting with her over Andy. Her green eyes were...no wait...they were blue...weren't they? She was sitting on the floor and sang to try to keep her spirits up. She could tell already, today would be hard.

There was a song she found for Andy as a wedding present. She sang it to him in front of everyone at Grammie Heather's for the reception. That was such a wonderful day. She'd replay every moment of that day in her mind today. That would get her through it.

_5__If you wait for me  
then I'll come for you  
Although I've traveled far  
I always hold a place for you in my heart_

If you think of me  
If you miss me once in awhile  
Then I'll return to you  
I'll return and fill that space in your heart

Remembering  
Your touch  
Your kiss  
Your warm embrace  
I'll find my way back to you  
If you'll be waiting

If you dream of me  
Like I dream of you  
In a place that's warm and dark  
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart

Remembering  
Your touch  
Your kiss  
Your warm embrace  
I'll find my way back to you  
If you'll be waiting

I've longed for you  
And I have desired  
To see your face your smile  
To be with you wherever you are

Remembering  
Your touch  
Your kiss  
Your warm embrace  
I'll find my way back to you  
Please say you'll be waiting

Together again  
It would feel so good to be  
In your arms  
Where all my journeys end  
If you can make a promise  
If it's one that you can keep  
I vow to come for you  
If you wait for me

And say you'll hold  
A place for me  
In your heart.

When she finished, Kai was there again. Gods how she hated him.

"Do you think anyone remembers you, Prisoner 624?"

"My name is Heather."

"You didn't answer my question, 624."

"They do."

He laughed. "If they do, I'm sure they wish they did not. I can only imagine the shame they must feel. A traitor in the family, a pirate, a thief, and a murderer. Why, even your own _aunt_ convicted you! Have you noticed that no one has come to visit you? No letters? Nothing?"

She looked up. "You wouldn't let them. And the only letters you show me are the ones you want me to see."

"Why 624, your precious Federation would never allow me to keep visitors or mail from you. That would be cruel and unusual punishment!"

She glared. "You lie."

"Believe what you will, 624. But they have all, mercifully, forgotten you. A stain on the honor of the Federation. Do you know that they conducted a full investigation of Starfleet Academy? They found so much damage had been done to the students by the incompetence of your instructors, that there had been so many casualties from your little killing spree, that they ejected your entire class."

She shook her head.

He laughed again, "You have such charming beliefs, 624. But I suppose you need something to keep you going. And just think, we've only been together for five months!"

She tried to think. It had only been four months, hadn't it? Had she lost count? It was so hard to keep track when they kept waking her up at weird times. She knew she was tired, but she didn't think she'd made that many mistakes. Or had they taken one of her strings while she slept? Did she lose one?

"Well, 624. I think I'll leave you a little early today. You may want to watch your diet. I think you're getting a little chubby! That won't do at all." And he laughed his smug laugh again and walked away.

She looked down at herself. Chubby? She'd been losing weight. Hadn't she? It had been so long since she'd seen herself in a mirror...What did she used to look like, anyway? Had she been eating because she was bored? No, she was pretty sure that she had been missing meals. With no clocks, how could you tell what meal it was anyway? Why wouldn't they just give her a god damn clock or a watch or something!?

FEDERATION PENAL FACILITY, CERES

Sometimes, she could see Andy's face in the helmet, like he was wearing it again, ready to go out and fly with her. That was always the best feeling in the world. He looked so damn _hot_ in that helmet and flight suit. It was all she could do not to grab him and tear it off. She smiled, laying in her bunk, still staring at the helmet hanging on its peg. Flying with him was like sex. Not as physical, but the feeling of being one being, moving in total harmony. They didn't even have to use the communicators when they flew. They just each knew where the other was going.

They would both dial the inertial dampeners down so they could feel the fighter move, feel the g forces, at least a little, when they banked, or dived, or climbed. They would take off and climb up above the clouds, up where you could start to see the stars and fly so close together the computers were screaming about it and their shields would spark off of each other. And sometimes they'd just roll around each other's fighter, letting the birds find their own path. She remembered when they got the leadership of Nova Squadron. They almost got grounded that day too. They had gone out for a 'training flight' and ended up setting down on some nowhere island in the Pacific. That day she _had_ torn his flight suit off. She grinned at the memory. It's not like they spent very long on the ground. And it wasn't _their_ fault the damn island was some stupid monitoring site for endangered birds and had cameras feeding into the 'net. She laughed and reached for the image of Andy, smiling and ready to climb in the cockpit, only to have it dissolve into Kai.

"Well, 624. Feeling better today, are we?"

Her smile instantly fell. She didn't even sit up. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to let you know that you can feel a little bit better."

She said, "Bet not."

"Don't be so negative, 624. I'm surprised at you! Only a year in and you're already so unhappy? You have a very long way to go yet."

She tried to think for a little bit. A year? She had given up on her knots. It was too hard to keep track. Sometimes it felt longer than a year. Maybe that was right. Only 59 more to go. She sighed.

Kai studied her and smiled. "Well, I just wanted you to know that the Federation finally settled our damage claims."

"Damage claims?" Her mind had just a flicker of her old curiosity.

"Of course! Because you were a Starfleet Soldier, they were liable for your actions. There was quite a lot of damage, of course. You were very thorough in meting out your destruction. There was my entire administration center, all of the vehicles you destroyed, 3 fighters, a patrol ship, a cruiser, and of course settlements to the families of those you murdered."

She lay there, staring at Andy's helmet. She wouldn't even listen. All he did was lie. They wouldn't pay Cardassia money for what she did. She was a pirate. They weren't at fault.

"Are you a fan of irony?"

"What?"

He smiled at her through the force field. "I just found it ironic that the amount they paid us was more than we would have charged you to buy _all_ of those little creatures and ship them wherever you wanted. Your whole silly raid only resulted in the extinction of the entire species."

"No. That's not true."

"Oh yes. We felt that the risk of another such mission was too high and got rid of them immediately. We had been _trying_ to sell them for some time beforehand. Didn't Dejan Lilac tell you that? Instead of causing so much death and destruction, you could simply have written a check."

She curled into a ball and held her fists over her ears. It couldn't be true. It was just more of his lies.

It hadn't been too many days since he told her about the reparations. A week maybe? But he had that fucking smug little smile that meant one of his 'special treats'.

"Good morning, 624!"

Was it morning? She thought it was evening. She had eaten today. Hadn't she? Maybe not. Maybe that was yesterday.

"I have a letter for you today."

She groaned and then cut it off quickly.

"No, you misunderstand! This is a letter _to you_!"

"What?" a small spark of hope flared in her heart.

"Shall I read it?"

Was he just going to tease her and then take it away? Make her beg for it and never read it? But maybe..."Yes, please."

"Please? Why, how courteous! I'd be happy to. It just arrived today." He pulled a chair around the front of the console and sat down. Picking up his display, he cleared his throat and began to read.

"Dear pilot," He looked up at her, "I thought that was a very polite opening, considering. "

Considering what, she thought? And who called her 'pilot'? Spruance? Did he write her?

But he was continuing. "My name is Rojan Kudat. I am 8 years old. Why did you kill my daddy?"

She flinched; He might as well have hit her.

He glanced at her, smiled, and kept reading. "He didn't do anything wrong. He was supposed to come home and bring me a present. I miss him very much." he looked up. "I think this next part is really very mature."

Going back to the display he read "I know you're a bad person but mommy says it's bad to hate, even bad people, so I don't hate you. She says I should forgive you. I forgive you. But I want my daddy back. I miss him very much."

Kai deactivated the display and placed it back on the console. Heather was curled tightly into a ball again and crying. "Incidentally, 624. Glinn Kudat was one of the people you strafed with your fighter on Orias III. His family, at least, had something to bury." He stood up and left.

Every 'day' after that brought another 'Dear pilot' letter. She dreaded the nights for the nightmares, but the days were almost worse. He had to be making these up. There wasn't that much hate in the galaxy to ask children to write to the Soldier who had killed their parent in battle, was there?

FEDERATION PENAL FACILITY, CERES

Kai walked in to the small area of the Penal Facility that the Federation authorities had made his own. He only had a dozen guards here to cycle through, so it was a small post, but he was finding it enjoyable. Earth was a short journey away by shuttlecraft so it was easy to keep himself and the guards' spirits up despite being so far from home. And they were learning much that was of value to the Union despite the travel restrictions the Federation placed upon them. He supposed they were learning as well by studying him and his guards. Ah well, it couldn't be helped.

He was very pleased with his progress in destroying the criminal who had attacked him on Orias III. There really wasn't much left to her. Which was a good thing as the Union was getting very tired of the expense of keeping them all here and the bad press. The Federation were making complaints about his little entertainments as well.

During the trial they had enjoyed the balance of the media attention. Since then, someone had publicized quite a lot of information about the treatment of the Oriaslings as well as trumped up scientific studies showing them to be sentient. It had become an embarrassment. Busybodies throughout known space were beginning to object to her imprisonment and his 'cruel' treatment of her. Finally, the raid had gone from being the action of a traitorous band of pirates to being a heroic, if misguided, mission to save cute little children from the evil Cardassians. Some fool had even made a bad entertainment about it. He shook his head, oh well. She wouldn't be able to enjoy it in any case.

Even if the Union pulled them all out tomorrow, which was increasingly likely, the shattered shell curled up in its cell wasn't going anywhere. He looked through the force field wall. She was still staring at the helmet. Her fur was matted and there was a strong smell coming out of there. Evidently she had given up on bathing some days ago. She was still eating occasionally and drinking, but not very often. He thought she had lost a significant amount of weight. Perhaps another month and she would simply execute herself from dehydration or starvation.

"Prisoner 624." he said. There was no answer. Louder, "Prisoner 624." Still no answer. "Prisoner 624!"

Finally, a weak, "What?"

"I simply wanted to wish you a happy anniversary! We've been together two years as of today. Doesn't that make you feel proud?"

There was no answer. He smiled and went back to his quarters deep under the surface of Ceres.

There used to be a wonderful place. It was real, she thought. Or used to be. It had blue skies, and sweet smelling green grass. There were breezes that brought so many interesting scents and little feathered flying creatures that sang to you and if you sang to them, they'd listen and sing back. There were big fluffy white clouds.

And there was a man there, a brave man who loved her very much. They even had children together. That's how she knew this place was real. They were real. She remembered holding them, and nursing them, and singing to them, and watching them sleep. They were so beautiful when they slept. And she could reach down and stroke their hair; they didn't have fur like she did. They had hair, like the man did. But their ears looked more like hers, and so did their eyes. And the hair was red, like her fur. And they were learning to walk and talk and they were happy. There was a lake there, and they would go and swim in it sometimes when it was hot and it would feel so cool.

But best of all, she and the man could get into birds and fly like them. They could go anywhere they wanted to, they were so free. She remembered flying around the moon with him, diving down to race across the big, silvery grey plains and play hide and seek in the sharp-cut mountains and then diving back onto the huge blue ball. It wasn't just a dream.

And there was home too. Her parents lived there. Her parents were real. They were heroes. Not like her, real heroes. And that place was wonderful too. Sometimes they would go out in the long ships and race the kaals across the water, watching them play tag with the oars. They were always faster no matter how hard you rowed. The sky was a different shade of blue there, but the clouds were still white and you could fly through them and around them and back into the sky, wherever you wanted to go.

Kai gave up on calling her number. She seemed to be in a different world now. She wasn't even blinking as she stared at that helmet. The smell of unwashed body was quite strong. He asked the guard, "When was the last time she ate or drank?"

"Early yesterday she had a small drink. First time I've seen her get up in a while. The log shows she ate four days ago. Some bread."

Kai wrinkled his nose. "Bathing?"

"Not for a couple of weeks now, sir."

"A pity. If only I had another week or two."

"Sir?"

He sighed. "Central Command has decided that the expense of keeping us here outweighs any benefit to the Union. We are being recalled."

"That's great news, sir!"

"I suppose. It will be good to get home to my family full-time instead of just a few days leave. My little girl is getting so big!"

The guard grinned, "I'm not a family man, sir, but who knows? Maybe I'll find someone when we get home."

Kai put his hand on his shoulder, "I wouldn't rush into it." and he smiled, "Leave everything as it is, grab your gear and let's go home."

"Who do I turn my post over to, sir?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure the Federation staff will figure out we've gone sooner or later." and he laughed.


	18. Chapter 17

_**CHAPTER 17**_

"The candle burns not for us, but for all those whom we failed to rescue from prison, who were shot on the way to prison, _who were tortured, who were kidnapped, who 'disappeared'. That's what the candle is for."  
- Peter Benenson__– Earth (Human)_

FEDERATION PENAL FACILITY, CERES

OCTOBER, 2292

Something was different. It had been quiet for a while. No letters. The pictures weren't on the walls any more. No more crying children or blown apart, burned Soldiers. She wondered what 'treat' he would have next. It didn't matter. She wasn't paying attention any more anyway. It was easier to stay in her memories and a lot nicer. And sometimes she could sleep. Real sleep with no nightmares and no one shouting at her to stand up. Well for a little bit anyway.

Oh. He had come into her cell. She wouldn't pay any attention to him here either. He was just going to do something else horrible.

"Heather?" There was no response. He asked again, "Heather?" Kneeling down he put himself directly in her field of view and put his hand gently on her shoulder. "Heather? It's over now. It's going to be OK." She moved her head slightly to try to see around him, but that was all. Captain Spruance stood up again and Rollin Wilkes put his hand on his chest and firmly pushed him away.

"Heather, lass. Tis time t'go home." He bent down and picked up the gaunt, filthy, young woman with her matted, knotted fur, cradling her to his chest. "t'will be fine now. We're all waitin' for ye."

That got a weak "Grandpa?"

"Aye. I'm here now. Let's gi' home." He carried her out of the cell and turned to leave the cell block.

She reached her hand out for Andy's helmet and tried to explain that she needed it, but all that came out was a low mew. Wilkes looked at Spruance and said, "Gi' tha', lad."

"Of course. We'll take her to the sick bay and..."

"Nay. Ye'll take us t'home now."

He picked up the helmet, "She needs a doctor, we can take..."

"T'wer nae a reques'."

Spruance looked up at the big man, holding the wreck of his granddaughter in his arms, a student that he had taught and trained and then set up to take the fall. "Yes. Of course." He handed her Andy's helmet and she clutched it to herself like a life preserver.

While he was pushing the shuttlecraft towards northern England he heard Rollin singing softly to her while cuddling her to his chest and rocking gently back and forth.

NORTH YORKSHIRE, ENGLAND, EARTH

OCTOBER, 2292

"Here, let's get those disgusting coveralls off of her. Heather, can you get something for her?" Nina asked when Rollin laid her in her bed.

"Aye." and she hurried over to the closet. A few moments later, the younger Rollin came in with Dr. April.

"She needs yer help." he said.

"Bloody hell!" he said when he caught sight of the emaciated, grimy young woman laying on the bed. "Rollin, I'm a vet, not a doctor!" But he began examining her anyways.

"Yer here, they're not. An I trust ye." he said in his odd half-Dosadi, half-Yorkshire accent.

After a few moments he opened his bag and began to work. There was the faint hissing of a hypo as he injected her arm and rear end with vitamins, tri-ox, and other medications. "She's dehydrated and starved. I'd been following the story, of course, but I didn't know it was _this _bad." He pulled out a bag of liquid and a tube.

"Wha's tha?" the elder Wilkes asked.

"An IV set. It puts fluid directly into the patient's veins. They don't really use them that often on people any more, but it's what I've got." He parted the fur on her arm, searching for a decent vein and finally inserted the needle into the back of her hand. "Hang this up somewhere." he handed the bag to the younger Rollin.

Nina came back in with a basin and a sponge. April looked up at her, "Good. That will help. She'll be OK, that will make her feel a lot better."

She smiled at him and began to sponge off Heather's fur, gently scrubbing her down.

After a short while April said, "We need to get some food in her too. Nothing solid for a while though."

Mrs Wilkes offered, "I'll fix some broth. I'll keep t'twins occupied as well. They nay need t'see her like this. "

"Yes, perfect." He checked her pulse and relaxed. "It's not as bad as it looks. She'll be fine." He paused for a moment. "Physically at least. It will take a long time for her to regain her...mental balance. If what they've been saying in the news is accurate, she's going to be very disoriented and confused."

Nina nodded and continued to scrub softly at the knots and grime in Heather's fur. The only reaction they got from her was if they tried to pry Andy's helmet out of her hands. They finally left it alone.

There was a sound. A constant, soft drumming sound punctuated with the occasional rumble. She remembered that sound. Rain? She felt very strange. Maybe she had finally died. She had dreamed that Grandpa had come to rescue her and they flew away into the night. That couldn't be real. He didn't fly into space. He had never even left England before. It had been years and no one had come. No one talked to her except him. And he only said horrible things.

Someone was holding her head and pressing something on her lips. Her mouth opened automatically and she felt a warm liquid on her tongue and she swallowed involuntarily. If it was poison, it tasted good at least. It happened again. She felt so much better than she had in a long time. Everything was soft now. And smelled of fresh linen and burning peat and leaves and... She must have died. She wished she had died so much earlier, then. This was nice.

Heather slowly opened her eyes and tried to make sense of what she was seeing. What was Nina doing here? Her cell was gone she was...home? "Nina?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yes, little sister. It's OK now." She was cradling her head and offered another spoonful of broth. "Here, take more of this, please."

Heather swallowed again. "Am I home? Is this real?"

"Yes." She squeezed her. "It's all over. You're home and safe now. Back where you belong. Home."

"How?"

"That's a long story, little sister." she smiled at her. "Before I begin, let's do this." She softly laid Heather's head back down on the pile of pillows. She reached for the battered helmet Heather was still clutching. "I've got something better for you to cuddle, OK?" She tugged gently, with no result. She called out the open door, "Heather? Can you bring them in now, please?" She tugged again and Heather finally let it go.

A few moments later there was a child's giggle and the twins toddled through the door and Aedan shouted "MAMA!" and both of them charged in and crawled up on the bed and swarmed her. Nina handed Andy's shattered, burned helmet to the older woman with a sad look.

"Aye. I'll pu' i' someplace safe." She left the room while Heather was sobbing and holding the twins as though they would turn into smoke and vanish.

"Mama, don't cry!" Reighney was afraid.

Nina put her hand on the child, "It's OK, Reighney. She's OK. She's just missed you so much while she was away and she's very happy to see you. She's not mad or hurt. It's OK."

The next weeks weren't easy, but the healing power of love and home is amazing. Her parents arrived quickly and while everyone spent time getting Heather's mind back to the real world, most often it was Nina sitting with her patiently, explaining again and again what had happened to her and what was real and what was not. Holding her while she sobbed or helping her to get her strength back, but most of all, not leaving her alone.

"Heather, every single thing he said or did was a lie. Not even the time! Jons got us sensor logs – a lot of them were on the news. They were playing games with the lights to make it seem like time was going faster. It wasn't several years, it was six months. Look at the twins, they're not four." she smiled, "Although they get into enough mischief they might as well be teenagers."

"All the letters though. And the pictures. They were horrible."

"Only a couple of those were real, Heather. The rest he made up just to hurt you. Just to be evil."

"I killed all those people."

"Little sister, you are a Soldier. That means you will sometimes kill the enemy – and yes, those enemies are people too. With mothers and fathers and wives and children and they're just like you. And sometimes they'll kill your friends. You know that. You've always known that. But because you are a decent and honorable person, he could hurt you with that. Because you are compassionate he could make it seem like you were being evil when you were doing your duty.

"You saved all those people, Heather. They were being slaughtered and you put a stop to it."

"We only saved a few. I don't even know how many got on the freighters. And then they killed all the rest. I was so sure that's what Starfleet wanted us to do! We thought..."

"Heather, listen to me. There's so much to tell you and we keep skipping around. Just listen for a while, OK?"

She nodded.

"Over eleven _thousand_ of them got on those freighters. And no, they didn't kill all the rest. Your raid put a stop to it for a while; They were trying to decide what to do and they had to rebuild the whole administration center. They started up again, but after your trial, things started leaking. Different media outlets started to change their tune. That whole set of images you saw, the one you said gave you the idea, that got out. So did some studies that were done on some of the ones you rescued. People all over the galaxy got upset.

"Even the Klingons were disgusted with the Cardassians. It was costing them a lot in time and money and resources to try to counter the bad publicity and it was hurting their trade. A group started up to 'Save The Oriaslings' and the Cardassians finally let them come in and ship them off the planet in July. They said they just wanted them off so they could put their colonies there and considered them nuisance animals. People all over the galaxy made contributions. It took three months but they got almost two hundred million of them to a new world in The Badlands. And one where the environment _isn't_ collapsing, unlike Orias III. They just finished last month. There were waves of freighters and transports and every kind of ship you can imagine. All sorts of people wanted to get involved.

"You, and Andy, and all the rest are heroes! 'Someone'," she smiled, "somehow managed to steal copies of the log of the _Archer_ and apparently, the fighters you abandoned on those freighters had logs as well. Gun camera footage that showed the Cardassians were lying, that showed how careful you all were, how disciplined.

"You know, I didn't know that fighters worked like that, acting like a big data array and synching up everyone's record data on all of them. There've been all sorts of specials on Federation military technology. I had no idea it was so interesting. But they have all of the logs and sensor traps from all six fighters. The Cardassians made war heroes out of the gunner who almost shot you down and the whole crew of that cruiser, and the one pilot who survived, so they have their own heroes as well.

"Anyway, after your trial, everyone thought you were just what they said. It was ugly. Thompson's mother was...awful. No one in the family believed it, we were all so shocked when you confessed – but we didn't know. Then the information started coming out about what was going on and people started asking why wasn't Starfleet doing anything? Why were only a group of cadets doing what was right, living up to the Federation Charter?

"There were lots of diplomatic explanations about sovereign territory and not going to war and how their hands were tied, lots of regret and so on. The more information came out, the less anyone believed them. And then, somehow, 'Someone' started leaking information about your imprisonment. The isolation was what got people's attention at first. It just seemed...wrong.

"But then the fake letters started showing up on the news and people started talking about torture and cruel and unusual punishment. The Cardassians claimed that simply reading your mail to you wasn't torture. There was a lot of pressure on both Cardassia and the Federation to accept that you did the right thing and grant you a full pardon. They tried to make the complaints go away and actually gave medals to the survivors of the raid. Except you. Thompson and Straw were awarded the Starfleet Medal of Honor.

"And that started looking even worse. Now, the Federation had recognized that they _should_ have done something, but didn't and here they were saying the people you and Sterling commanded were heroes, but _you_ were a criminal. They had explanations for that as well, of course, how the others were 'only following orders' and that you had to be punished because you stole those codes and forged orders and lied and so on.

"The longer time went on, the more horrible things that...beast...did to you, the more people got upset and the worse the Federation looked for tolerating it. There's a whole group out there called 'Free The Angel of Orias III', did you know that?" She smiled. "Of course not. Sorry." She put her hand on the younger woman's arm. "Heather, you're famous. Not for being a pirate, or a traitor, or a killer, but because you and your mate stood up for what was right, even at an unbearable personal cost.

"Little sister, that is what the Federation is all about. And the more information came out about what was happening on Orias III and the more obvious it became that the Cardassians were lying about most of it, the better you looked and the worse the Federation Council looked. They eventually put enough pressure on the Cardassian Union that they pulled their people off of Ceres and abandoned any claim to what happened to you.

"They made a whole entertainment about the raid. The critics didn't like it but everyone else did." she chuckled, "It might have been a little over the top, but I liked it. The actress who played you did a good job. Of course they had a lot of inside information about you and Sterling. It was a little melodramatic. I think your aunt Marin had a big hand in writing it." She smiled again.

Heather was just staring at her sister-in-law. It was too much to take in all at once.

It was two weeks after she had returned home that Admiral Stone and Captain Spruance arrived. The evening sun was setting and the sky was grey. Their reception was rather chilly. Wilkes and Sooth were standing on the front porch as they came up the path, and Rollin Wilkes was towering behind them.

Wilkes spoke first. "What do _you_ want, Admiral?"

She winced. "The Federation Council sent me. And I want to explain."

None of the three on the porch moved. Spruance said, "Please, I promise we will not stay long and what we have to share is good news."

Sooth put her hand on Rollin's arm. "Let's all go inside, all right? We should hear what they have to say at least. It would be dishonorable not to let them have their say."

Wilkes said, "Fine." And the group of the trooped in to the big dining room.

Stone said, "Wilkes, can Heather come down too? This is about her, and we have things to give her."

He considered it. "If you hurt her at all, I will kill you both before you can get up from your chairs."

Stone was shocked. Spruance said, "That's about all I can expect, Wilkes. But this won't hurt her, I promise."

"I've had about all I can stand of Starfleet's promises, lately."

"Believe it or not, so have I. That's part of why we're here. We owe you this much."

The elder Wilkes came down, bringing Nina and Heather. She was walking a lot better now and had regained much of her strength and mental balance. She sat down across from the two officers without saying anything.

Stone said, "Heather, I'm so sorry. I'm so very, very sorry, it wasn't supposed to be like it was, but they're trying to make it right." She held her hand up as several people looked like they were about to say something. "Please. Let me just say this first." She pulled out a set of isolinear data rods and some real paper certificates as well. "First, the Federation Council has granted you a full and complete pardon for all of the convictions. Second, they have inducted you into the Karagite Order of Heroism for your actions at Orias III and Sterling has received several decorations posthumously including the Star Cross and the Starfleet Silver Palm. You have been retroactively graduated from the Academy with your GPA intact, so you are a summa cum laude graduate. You have also been retroactively awarded your back pay and are being offered a direct promotion to Lieutenant."

Spruance actually smiled, "They're offering you command of a three-ship squadron, Heather. It would be you, Paavo, and Inga again." She blinked but made no other sign she had really understood.

The uncomfortable silence stretched out for a few seconds. Stone finally said, "We were ordered not to ever discuss this with anyone, ever, but I can't stand it any more. Heather, we didn't want to do this to you."

A flicker of interest showed in her eyes and Stone continued. "They picked us to get to you. They showed us those god damn sensor logs and the pictures of those people being murdered and dissected. They said we had a choice, we could let them all die in their millions, or we could set you up. They said it would be easy – there weren't any ships that were anywhere near there when the raid was supposed to happen! They fucked it up completely. They blew it on the defenses on the ground too. And Jesus they fucked up on what the Cardassians would do."

She hung her head. "They told us you'd get like 30 days in a resort. That the Cardassians would just want a pro forma conviction and then they could put everything back where it was. You weren't even supposed to miss graduation. They said it was the only way to save all those people without causing a war and would even lead to better relations with a people we don't have much of any with. Everyone would win. You and Spruance would get a vacation and then we could quietly let you out and you'd have done a great service to Starfleet. Spruance was the only thing they got right."

He spoke, "They demoted me and gave me thirty days in the brig. I was due another promotion, so I got right back to Captain a couple of months ago, and they restored me to my position at the Academy in time for the new school year. I feel like such a total slime, Heather. They weren't supposed to go after you like that. The Intel people assured us they had covered all the angles. Better than 90% they said. Assholes."

Mrs. Wilkes was frowning at the salty language, and even more at the story they were telling.

Stone continued. "They picked me because I'm your aunt. They said the fact that I was presiding over the court that convicted you would prove the lie to the Cardassians; that this was all your idea. They picked you because you and Sterling were the best, and because of the way you were always helping everyone else. They knew you wouldn't be able to walk away and let those people down." She lowered her eyes. "Any more than I could."

Heather said, "So we were right. It was what we were supposed to do."

"Yes, Heather, it was. You did everything right. Oh Christ, you did so well and I wanted to tell you at the trial, and then they let the Cardassians keep you isolated from everyone." tears started to run down her cheeks. "I was so proud of you! I had to sit there in that god damn court room and pretend I thought you were a criminal and all I wanted to do was tell you how very well you did and oh god, Heather, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

Spruance was struggling with his own emotions. "We knew you stuck with the story all through your time on Ceres. I still can't believe you didn't just tell them everything. It had to have looked like we were just throwing you to the wolves. Fuck, we _did_ just throw you to the wolves. I don't know if there's anything we can do to make it right with you, Heather but..." he looked at her hopefully.

Wilkes was gritting his teeth and the elder Mr. Wilkes was gripping the back of Heather's chair so tightly the wood seemed likely to splinter. Sooth was shaking her head slowly.

"Then I did my duty?" she asked.

Both officers answered, "Yes!" and Spruance continued, "And more, Heather. Starfleet – the real Starfleet not the cluster-fucking paper-pushers – know who you are and we're proud of you. You _are_ what we are supposed to be."

"Did you try?"

"Try what?" Stone asked.

"To get me out?"

"Oh god, yes. Heather, both of us. We tried every day. We petitioned everyone, went to see everyone. I almost got court martialed a couple of times. I flew to Ceres once to try to see you, they had to use Security to keep me out and I almost got arrested."

Mrs Wilkes, a true Christian, spoke into the silence, "He that hideth his sins, shall not prosper: but he that shall confess, and forsake them, shall obtain mercy." She stood up and wiped her hands on her apron. "I'll se' extra places for supper." and moved off into the kitchen.

The discussion had continued over supper and more details of the two officers' struggles to gain Heather's freedom came to light. After the dishes had been put up, Stone was feeling completely dejected. The more she talked about what they had done, the worse she felt about her part in it.

Wilkes looked at her, Sooth curled up next to him on the love seat. "Angie. I don't know if I can ever forgive you for this."

She looked at a man she had loved many years ago and still considered a dear friend. "I know."

Heather swallowed. "I think I can."

Everyone in the room turned towards her. Stone almost choked. Spruance said, "What?"

"I think I understand. You were as screwed as I was. Dad, do you remember what you told me about what Uncle Corin told you when his mate Nollos died?"

He nodded, "Honor means always doing the right thing, even if it costs you everything you ever had or hoped to have."

"It was the right thing, wasn't it? For all of us?"

Stone said, "Yes."

She thought for a moment. "Was it worth it?"

There was no answer from anyone in the room as they all considered the price that had been paid.

TEMPLAR IV, THE BADLANDS, ALPHA QUADRANT

OCTOBER, 2292

Fallon, now almost ten years old ran over the wing of the Viper sitting on the grass outside their village. Lilac had said he would be back in a year or so to 'salvage' the abandoned birds. They had made sure that all three of the alien craft were well cared for, and kept clean. But this one was her favorite despite the missing pieces and the burn marks all over one wing.

Her friend finally caught her and yelled 'TAG!' She stopped running and he said, "You always run over here and stop. It's so easy to catch you." He looked at the glistening, white painted feathers. "Why do you like it so much?"

"Because it's an angel. It's _my _angel."

"Don't be dumb. There's no such thing as angels." And he ran off to continue the game.

She reached down and stroked the broken wing. She knew angels were real. She had touched one.


	19. Chapter 18

_**CHAPTER 18**_

"Justice will overtake fabricators of lies and false witnesses."  
Heraclitus– Earth (Human)

LAKARIAN CITY, CARDASSIA PRIME

FEBRUARY, 2293

Legate Kai looked in on his sleeping daughter and smiled. She was growing so quickly. The night was growing late and he was quite tired. There was still work to do, of course, but it would wait until morning. He stretched luxuriously and made his way to his bedroom where his wife had already gone to sleep.

The light of the moon shone into the room and added an air of mystery to the familiar setting. It was so nice to be home instead of on that miserable planet or that even more miserable asteroid where the humans kept their prison. Fools. Cardassian justice was much simpler. There was never a trial without the verdict being known in advance – and for a crime of that magnitude the punishment was always execution. How much more merciful would it have been to have simply shot that creature rather than to have to slowly destroy her mind until she died on her own, wallowing in sorrow, shame, and misery. Humans were a cruel species, though they maintained that they were somehow merciful.

He lay down in his comfortable bed and pulled the silken sheets up, relaxing contentedly. It didn't matter. He was done with the whole messy incident and it had helped his career, despite the diplomatic mess. Allowing some bleeding heart group to come in and collect all those little creatures was quite a time and money saver for the Union. He smiled to himself. If only he'd thought of that himself.

In minutes, he was sound asleep, safe and happy in the certain knowledge that he was right in all things.

Something had touched him. He opened his eyes, cautious to remain motionless until he determined what was happening. There was nothing. Just the wash of moonlight. Then suddenly something straddled him and he tried to sit up, tried to shout a warning, but he was unable to move even a muscle. And then the thing leaned into his view.

It was horrible! The body was...translucent...he could see the blurry objects behind it. The face was a hideous red and black marbled horror with yellow eyes and fangs floating in mid air with the breath of a corpse. More than anything he wanted to leap up, to run or fight – it was a demon! But that wasn't possible, they weren't real! Why couldn't he move?! He couldn't even scream. Why didn't his wife wake up? Someone had to come and help him!

The demon leaned its face close to his and he felt sharp pinpricks on his neck and jaw as it hissed its awful breath onto him. The eyes locked into his and he was powerless to look away. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real. It was just a nightmare. Things like this didn't exist! There were no demons!

It turned his head slowly back and forth, studying him. He could hear it's breath hissing softly in and out as it examined him. He felt his heart racing. Why couldn't he move? And then the pain began. It started out slowly and then built beyond the bounds of tolerance. The demon leaned it's face so close he could feel it's foul breath on his skin, the yellow eyes burning into his. It felt like every nerve in his body was on fire. His brain tried to make him scream, but nothing happened.

The thing just stayed there, hovering in front of him while his body floated in an unending lake of fire and agony. The demon stroked his hair and hissed again, and the horrors in his mind were released. Every fear he had ever had, every terror locked away in his memory was set loose at the same time, each and every one more real than the last and all intermixed with the horrible agony he could do nothing about. And still, the demon just hovered there, showing it's fangs and sending the scent of the damned into his nose while it stroked his hair in a perverse sign of concern.

Three hours later, the demon sat up. It reached a hand up to Kai's arched neck and felt for a pulse. There was nothing. His face was locked in a rictus of unimaginable terror, the eyes locked open and bloodshot. It had taken longer than he thought, but that was a good thing.

Heather's eldest brother Corin got off the corpse and checked to be sure that Kai's wife was not suffering any ill effects from the anesthetic he had sprayed in her nose while she slept. In another four hours or so she'd awaken feeling fine. He collected the nerve-block from the back of Kai's neck, and then the pain-inducer from the back of his skull. Finally, he removed the amygdala stimulator. Putting all three items back into his pouches, he patted them lovingly. Banned technology? Maybe. Useful? Definitely.

Stretching the kinks out of his back, he removed the demon mask and pulled the hood of his active camouflage uniform back over his head. Time to go and leave this poor heart attack victim for his family to grieve over.

An hour later, he was back aboard the _Tarak_ and reporting to his captain on the details of the mission.

Captain Sorleth asked, "Anything unusual then?"

"Well, it took him a little over three hours to die from the terrors. He must have been a tough old snake. Not that I minded it taking longer. I don't think _he_ enjoyed it much."

Sorleth laughed and then waved his hand over his nose. "Gods, when does that damn gum wear off? Your breath reeks like you've been eating rotting narek."

Corin grinned, "I'll go brush my teeth, sir. Would you please send a message to my Uncle Jons and let him know it's done?" He was removing his contact lenses, leaving him with one yellow and one blue eye as he spoke.

"Absolutely, Lieutenant. Well done."

"And Captain? Thank you for this."

"We take care of each other, Lieutenant. Always. Now go take care of your breath. I'll need you at tactical – we still need to get out of Cardassian space, cloaked or not.

Heather sat in the dark, alone. She listened to the soft sound of her breathing, letting her mind settle down. There was a faint hiss and then a quiet chirp. She smiled and pulled her gloves on, then snapped the mask over her face. She reached up and touched a control on the computer and her usual first song began to play.

There was a laugh on the comm system as she looked up at flight control and returned the launch officer's salute. "More of Heather's musty old music! Wouldn't be a flight without it." Paavo said. As her fighter rocketed out of the ship and into the stars, Inga asked,

"_Bullet In My Hand_ again? Jeez, Heather, how about a random on that list?"

She chuckled, watching the stars wheel around her canopy. "Stay tight on me."

Back in flight control, the young ensign working the console asked the launch officer, "So what's up with her?"

"Beg pardon?"

"The name painted on her fighter and all their helmets with the wings on them? The flight leader's is all scratched up."

"You don't know who that is we just launched?"

"No. I just came aboard at Betazed. What's a 'broken angel'?"

He just shook his head, "You must live in a hole. Let me fill you in..." and he began to tell the young man the story while the music came through the comm system.

_6__I've got a fast life and  
A slow cuttin' knife  
I've been drinkin' at a poisoned well  
No home and a bag of bones  
And nothin' else left to sell  
I know why I'm in this hell  
I just don't wanna believe  
Past that line you just can't tell  
But right now_

There's someone lookin' out for me  
I came out of the darkness  
With a bullet in my hand  
I got one more shot at livin'  
I'm lucky that I can  
Cause I got a little roughed up  
Yeah I really got fucked up  
I came out of the darkness  
With a bullet in my hand

I got a cold stare, the wound's still there  
But there ain't much left to bleed  
A short fuse that I still use  
I'm my own worst enemy  
Stare at the faces I once knew lined up just to bury me  
There's a long black car that's waitin' to leave  
But right now

There's someone looking out for me  
I came out of the darkness  
With a bullet in my hand  
I got one more shot at livin'  
I'm lucky that I can  
Cause I got a little roughed up  
Yeah I really got fucked up  
I came out of the darkness  
With a bullet in my hand

Cause I got a little roughed up  
With a bullet in my hand  
Yeah I really got fucked up  
With a bullet in my hand

Can you see the light?  
Can you see the light?  
Can you see the light?  
I can see the light  
I can see the light

There's someone looking out for me  
I came out of the darkness  
With a bullet in my hand  
I got one more shot at livin'  
I'm lucky that I can  
Cause I got a little roughed up  
Yeah I really got fucked up  
I came out of the darkness  
With a bullet in my hand 


End file.
